Thanksgiving Mountain Path

               I think the weight loss process has had a very deep impact upon my life and lifestyle.  After 60plus days of eating mindfully I am so aware of what is going into my body and also what makes me feel good.  I read this morning that many Americans push 14,000 calories into their body in one day. How can that be?.... easy.  A few glasses of good eggnog ending with a big piece of pecan pie and the rest of the stuff and stuffing... and boom....you do the math.   This is not going to be a rant on eat less or vegetarian or vegan or anything, it is more about mindfulness and what is being consumed.    

               Once I had the pattern for the appropriate food consumption – quality and quantity, I began looking at the stuff and people consumption.  I shop differently than I did.  I still keep my eye open for things in the store, especially woodshops, tool stores and book havens, and stop and pick up the item, but then I ask, when would I use this, could I borrow it from someone if only once or twice, etc. or would my goals or someone in life be enhanced if I had this or is there a lesson to be learned from this connection.  Many things in my home have made their way to other homes or the street and then to someplace.  Their connection with my life has passed or maybe was never connected.

               People are not as easy to discern.  Like items in the store, there is an attraction to the attractive and those that please, praise, or promote your life.  Being a self-critical person who can find the flaw in the flaw, these folk’s help me to look up and away from my shoes.  

               Over time, I have learned more about the “long haul” and have said good speed to many who have come and flared and faded.  Over time, I have said hello again to those that pass several times throughout the lifespan.  

                I also have learned that I need those that feel less positive toward me and my ways.   There are corners on the relationships that occasionally cause splinters or bruises.  They make up balance and help to maintain the center.   I need those people even when there marks are the extreme and painful.  They help me to have compassion for myself and those that are suffering themselves.

               My dear friend Henry Wilting (of H&H) sent this picture to me this week.  It is the gate at the bottom of the hill to Wat Phra on Doi Suthep Mountain and near the Chiang Mai Zoo where Henry rides his bike every morning.   It is the walk to alms for the monks.   Like life...there is a same same  but difference in each person in my life and I am grateful all.

               

Thanksgiving long ago

       Winter can be perfect if the quality and quantity of the snow is appropriate for the planned task.  Skiing is delightful with a deep powder but driving is perfect when there is a dust that covers the grey. The wrong snow for the wrong task is very inconvenient or annoying. 

        This morning produced the kind of snow that turned to ice which results in  wheels spinning for the commuter. By midday, and a rise in temperature, moving the snow off the sidewalk was like shoveling water out of a swimming pool. It was the kind of snow that made your mittens soggy when you attempted to make a snow ball.

        When I was young, this was a holiday that was spent at my uncle’s farm in Ohio.  Mother would always have the suitcases packed and ready the day before.  Dad would always have to just make a quick stop at the office to finish some important sale.  We were lucky if we got out of town by mid-day. 

        One of the problems with travel between Buffalo and Toledo was driving through Pennsylvania. There was always construction even in the winter and there was always snow near Erie, maybe even in July.

        The trip was usually quiet since mom was not happy that we would be arriving after her family’s bedtime and dad was attending to the highway with the snow building up on the road.  The windshield wipers slapped back and forth and once in the car, the wheels just went around and around with only a quick stop for gas and toilet.

        The end of the trip would bring us to Uncle Medard and Aunt Gertrude’s farm and they would get up and bustle about to get us into bedrooms for the night.  Uncle Medard was an industrial plumber with a wide girth.  He told a good story and was an even tempered man.  I would enjoy spending time talking with him and reading is mechanics illustrated books.  Aunt Gertrude was a well-meaning woman who always planted the wet kiss on your check upon your arrival.

        It was the mystery meal since you had no idea who would be attending the meal – Medard had three boys and a girl.  Rev Simeon only came in the summer but in the very early days, Joe and Jim came with their family.  Then Joe and his wife split and he came with the new wife occasionally.  Jim and his crew would come for the meal and then leave until he decided to take a permanent leave. Mary Ellen and her crew were the steady family and over the years would be the only connection.  Mother was very close to Mary Ellen and I always felt they had a much closer connection than mom and I.   It all feels like another life time now... the chicken plucker in the basement, the hen house, the nut crusher in the yard, the riding mower... long ago.

         We would drive, talk, eat and then drive home again in the dark and like today, it would snowed.   

RECOVERY

RECOVERY

About 20 days before my seventy-fourth birthday, I got an email that had a great impact upon my core sense of self.   This is what I have taken from the experience.

It has been my practice for a while to get up in the morning with a fairly optimistic, positive, but realistic attitude about who I am and what I am doing.  For a good part of my life, it has been my experience to observe that while I was not at the pinnacle in any area, I could hold my own in a range of experiences.  Cooking, trip planning, photos, storytelling, etc. were a few areas that I counted myself in the top third while spelling, sewing, and flower arrangements were at the bottom.   I had tricked myself into believing that I had a tribe that when needed, could help me grow by pointing out other ways in which I could present myself or my creativity. I listen and give good consideration to comments that are constructive or meant to help.   It took me a long time to share my stories and even longer to share my photos though I have been published in both since high school.  

I am aware that when you put yourself out there, not everyone is going to accept what you create as good and might even not like it. If you want to create, show up, be seen, you will get your ass kicked.  It takes courage and while in writing and photo, I think I am a storyteller; I accept and admit that many have better technical skills and techniques.  I am ok about anything said about my products but this email was about me.  Cheap shots from the cheap seats presented as coming from an anonymous crowd.  It took the wind out of me and sent me scrambling to my cave for it felt mean and intended to hurt.

As it was, a prior commitment made me get back on the writing horse and I was forced to move through “not enough” to “I can do it” and “who do you think you are” and to get out of my own self-pity and back to ...some people will never like your or what you write.  

When you are creative and take a picture either with words or the lens, you are vulnerable.  Fear takes over and piles fuel to your self-doubt. My little inner child grew up thinking I was a mistake and stupid, so when a cannon ball hits you, the little one starts to scream... run, hide, protect yourself, join the foreign legion, etc. that person is right and that is how EVERYONE see you.

I have just been through a rugged weight loss process where I ate 500-600 calories a day for 40 days and lost about 22 pounds for a total loss since I started being aware of my food of 30 pounds.  I am still a chunky person and at this age my skin is not as supple so ... to help me get on with my creative process, I literally took my clothing off and I wrote naked. I started with the Haiku and then other stuff and finally the article.

I care about what people think. I see you and hear you that praise and don’t like what I create, but naked or not, I am going to create and for today, I am fully clothed.