ruminations
now browsing by category
being grown up
The amount of things I do on a daily basis in the name of health — well, it’s ridiculous.
I began thinking about it one morning, as I took my liquid vitamin D, put my other supplements in my bag, made my lunch, prepared my hot water with lemon and green smoothie for breakfast. And that’s just part of the nutrition side. I drink over 90 ounces of water a day (trust me, that’s a lot of bathroom breaks), I’m about 90% meat-free, sober about 98% of the time (wine, despite being wildly delicious and utterly fascinating, also enhances my leg spasms and other MS symptoms) and I don’t eat very much gluten. I have to say that when all these changes were first presented I was completely overwhelmed by all of it. I didn’t think I was unhealthy but there were a lot of adjustments that were suggested as better alternatives. (In the years since I began this journey, I have learned that many of those adjustments did indeed make life better.)
Outside of food (and all those components) I also use a dry brush (my trusty Yerba) in the mornings before I shower — to help circulation, the lymphatic system and keeping my skin healthy. I try to meditate every morning. I moisturize every day (this is THE most tedious part of my day — I just find it completely tiresome), I have a pretty strict face routine (tinted moisturizer for the day, a different moisturizer for sleeping, different face washes/masks for the morning and evening — and I count to 40 -slowly- while washing my face). I also count to 40 while brushing my teeth, and I use a tongue scraper morning and night (one of my favorite things — i have to say, as gross as it is, the junk that builds up on your tongue is a pretty good indicator of how healthy your insides are).
And in addition to all these things (which can seem endless) I also, oh, y’know, work and live my life.
It’s insane to think that when I was young I didn’t think about any of these things. I didn’t worry about my intestines or my colon, I didn’t read my tongue’s debris like gypsies read tea leaves, I didn’t think about what I was eating at.all. And let’s be honest — I’m not that old. In fact, I don’t think of myself as old at all. Thirty-five is just the right age.
I do attribute the life changes to both getting older and being more self-aware as well as MS. And it’s crazy because the more you learn about things and decide what you agree with and what you think is just absurd (and trust me, there are things that seem completely insane in the world of nutrition and health), the more changes you make. Almost unnoticeably.
To be completely honest (which should be a given, since this is a blog by me, about, well, me) I am proud of myself and how far I’ve come. As John and I gear up to buy our house and move away from our first (and to this point, only) home together, I have spent a lot of time reflecting on where we began and how far we’ve come. We started out as two kids who didn’t have two nickels to rub together, eating incredibly unhealthy dinners (as we learned to feed ourselves outside of the restaurant industry) and dreaming of ‘one day.’
Well, now, six years, a dog, a wedding, several jobs & several cars later, we’ve arrived at ‘one day.’ We took some detours along the way (no one plans for a chronic disease, right?) but we got here, and it feels kinda great. It also reminds me that I have grown up — even if I still feel like I’m 17. (There are things that a teenager just can’t — and maybe shouldn’t — understand.) I think life, aging and all the things in between are fascinating. I like analyzing it and dissecting it in my head, in my thoughts. Understanding how I’ve gotten where I am and what I’ve learned along the way.
It’s kinda cool. Even if it takes up a lot of time. 🙂
who we are
It’s a funny evolution — growing up and slowly making life choices. Something that has been on my mind recently — the choices we all make — pretty much touches every aspect of who we are. Not just what we do for a living — but how we do what we do. Who we choose to spend our life with – where that life is lived. Some of the choices are influenced by outside factors, but many are internal decisions. Steps are taken based on experience, based on culture, based on the humans our parents began to build.
But at some point, we stop being our parents children, and we become ourselves.
I can see — in how I live my life — both of my parents and my paternal grandmother (who assisted in raising my brother and I while living with our family most of my young life). Those three people did their best to shape a little human who had values, morals and ate her vegetables (among other things). The time, effort and education they put into me, the love and attention and angst as I grew up and spread my wings — the pure frustration they must have felt. None of their work was immediately evident as I headed off to college. It was hazy — who I was was still somewhat unclear.
I made them wait a little, too. I didn’t have all my sh*t together like most kids — I graduated from college and hung out in limbo for a little bit. Now, over ten years later, I can look back and things make sense. But they didn’t at the time.
And then all of a sudden, I began to figure it out, figure myself out. It started small, but it grew. I felt confident in who I wanted to be – as a partner, as an employee and as a member of society. Suddenly, I began to understand how the world worked — and that it didn’t work for me, or in my favor. I had to make that for myself.
So very long story short, I managed to fall into a career, I met a man who is actually my best friend, a man who cares about me and love me even when I’m completely unloveable. And I began to grow up for real.
What I mean by that is that at some point (and it varies greatly) I think we all become aware of taking care of ourselves — that maybe what we eat actually matters, and exercise is –after all– about more than being skinny and looking the part at the gym. That there are consequences to all our actions.
And then — each one of us — we begin to define ourselves. In our personal relationships, in how we conduct ourselves professionally — in how we choose to be healthy. Some people look for easier solutions — diet supplements, things that guarantee a result without putting in the work. And other people do the research, they slowly build their knowledge and modify their behavior. It speaks of character just as much as it speaks of health.
Anyway, I digress.
The point I’m making (in a very round about way) is that once we begin to make choices we begin to define who we are, but also who we want to be. And that entire process is fascinating. I’ve been thinking a lot about it (as I mentioned at the beginning of this post), because the man and I have made so many changes in how we live — and that’s just the past few years, not even the entire time we’ve been together. At some undefinable moment (because it wasn’t when I was diagnosed — that just enhanced it) John and I began to make changes in how we lived our lives. And the evolution of that is crazy. And I can see who we are, and our life circumstances, in nearly every change we’ve made. I can see myself — this late-blooming human being — beginning to emerge from the haze. And it’s pretty cool.
changing attitudes
Life has a funny way of surprising you.
Case in point — I am not a FB stalker by nature. In general, people I’m no longer friends with, people whose paths have diverged from my own — I’m not all that interested in creeping about online trying to find out how their lives have progressed. Not because I wish them any ill will, but more because there’s no need, no point really, in trying ti find out information that has no relevance to one’s own life. If I was still invested in that friendship, I would know how lives were because I would speak with my friend.
That being said, I’m also not entirely immune to good old-fashioned curiosity.
Let me also say, there are several women from my past whom I am no longer in contact with and for the most part, the reasons for those choices are extremely valid.
But on Friday, as I scrolled through some photos, I happened upon a person I haven’t had any contact with for several years, and I admit, I was curious.
My limited discoveries made me think long and hard about life choices, about why certain people remain friends, and others do not. And, I have to admit, it made me feel glad that I no longer have a relationship with the aforementioned person.
We all, in our lives, come to many crossroads. Decisions have to be made, and in those decisions parts of our character are revealed. Do I choose to follow my dreams or make a living (and do those things have to be mutually exclusive?) — and how do those choices help form the human being I am. Do I choose the easy way or the hard way? And why — because sometimes the easy choices are wise and sometimes, the hard way is the honest, decent, moral way.
I examined the changes that I noticed in this person, the choices in life this person has apparently made — and I knew deep down that as humans, we do not value or prioritize the same things. And that also reinforced that the decision to end our friendship was the right one.
My life is a huge amalgamation of the choices I’ve made, the people who influenced me, the things I value, the morals I hold, the goals I strive for — the man I married, the brother I love, the parents who raised me, the mistakes I’ve learned from, the disease that inhabits my body … You get my point.
I’m proud of where I’ve found myself — of the business I’ve helped to shape, of the friendships I am privileged to enjoy, of the races I’ve run, the food I’ve cooked, the knowledge that I try to grow every day. And I know that each of us makes choices every day about how we want to live — do we drink alcohol, eat meat, drink water, exercise, pursue hobbies, etc etc. This person who I am no longer friends with — she always gave me the impression that she didn’t approve of my life, of my choices, of my job/career, my relationships. I don’t know that I ever felt that way about her — she seemed to make smart decisions, and she had the foundation of a very happy life and family the last time we spoke. But now, doing a little check-in years later, I was surprised by some of the paths she chose to walk and it brought into sharp focus that whatever disapproval she had for me probably came from her own insecurities and had very little to do with my actual life.
I am the first to admit that I didn’t follow the easiest path to where I am. Somehow, despite some terrible life choices, I’ve ended up in a good place, with an amazing support group. I’m not the best at keeping in touch. I’m selfish. Not in a terrible way, but in a real way. I know that. But I’m also fairly resourceful, and thanks to the inherent spirit of my mother, I tend to look on the bright side of life. Even if it doesn’t seem to exist. Having a moment when I realized that I no longer needed to feel cowed by a person years and miles away in relevance — it was refreshing and relieving. If also a little absurd.
So that’s my tangent for today. My snuggly pup is rolling around on the carpet and the man is researching for his upcoming trip Out West. It’s a nice Sunday. I’m going to go make some popcorn and watch more Star Trek. 🙂
small smiles
March most assuredly came in like a lion today. John and I headed into the city to put my new office today (phew! it was driving me nuts working in an office that looked like a bomb went off). We arrived downtown with a heavy gray sky, and by the time we left, the snow had accumulated and turned to freezing rain. It was insane.
I guess the one thing I felt grateful for today is that each new day is just that — new. And when you wake up in the morning and you allow all the heaviness of the day before and the tumultuousness of a restless night’s sleep slip from your shoulders, life feels a lot lighter.
It all starts again tomorrow. But at least I feel much better, and I have a nice, clean place to go to work. Sometimes it’s worthwhile to just find the little things that make you smile, and add them up. It usually amounts to much more than you realized.
tracking time
So, a small update on the status of my resolutions/life changes.
I have successfully taken my vitamins almost every day. I have begun most days with warm water and lemon. I still don’t like it. But it’s growing on me. Perhaps my kidneys are a fan? Maybe I’ll think of it that way. I have tried to take better care of my skin (all my skin, not just my face and neck). I still find moisturizing tedious. But then I remind myself that it’s the biggest organ of the body, and that it deserves just as much TLC as my digestive track, my kidneys and all the other organs that benefit from the various things I try to do on a daily basis.
The man and I began Lent with the vow of abstaining from meat and alcohol. A few days ago we made a commitment to reduce our gluten intake (we think of it as the 90% gluten-free diet). I always hate admitting it, but I do feel better when we don’t drink and when my diet is very plant-based. I will never enjoy raw veganism — I just really don’t like raw veggies. And having experienced dehydrated foods I will pass on those as well (when they re-hydrate in your stomach/intestine, it is the most uncomfortable feeling in the world. Like the worst bloating you’ve ever experienced in your life). But stuffed peppers and zucchini pasta, and caprese salads and portobello caps and green smoothies? I can get down with that stuff. And we haven’t given up fish. Or dairy (sacrilege I say! …. although I do understand the benefit of giving up dairy. Unfortunately).
I have tried to limit my social media usage and have been — fairly — successful. Some days are better than others. Say — sitting in a waiting room with nothing to do? Yes, social media makes an appearance. But on regular days, when I’m working and cooking and swimming, etc etc. I don’t always get to Instagram or Facebook. Twitter however, is still on my phone.
Having revisited my resolutions for this year, I have already fallen woefully short. BUT, there are things I’ve done that aren’t on the resolutions list. So it almost (not really) counterbalances it. I have not begun learning Spanish yet. I have not played my keyboard. And I have not been hugely successful with beginning each day by saying “Today will be a great day.” But — I have consistently tried to treat my body with more kindness, and I am working on making healthy life choices in regards to diet, exercise and the types of products I am using. (No, I will not give up my grapefruit Neutrogena face wash. No matter how many bad things are in it. I love it. And that’s that.)
Like the tortoise taught us, slow and steady wins the race. We just bought a house. My business is growing. I’ve had shingles. At thirty-five. As long as every day I try my very best — to eat well, to do my job well, to treat people with kindness, to treat myself with kindness, to love my puppy and my family and my friends, to Thank God for John — well, that’s all I can really do, right?
Oh yeah, and sometimes I just need to give myself a break and forgive myself. That one is tough.
dark moments
February is not my friend. It’s never been my friend. Not as a child when the dark, cold dreary-ness affected me to my core. Not now when it feels like the longest month of the year — both personally and professionally.
February — twenty-eight days of struggle. Annually.
Yesterday I nearly hit my breaking point — stopping for a minute to just put my head down and shake with unshed tears. That hollow, silent, desperate sort of sob. The kind that eclipses you at the very darkest, most lonely moment. When everything you do feels like a failure.
Today, as I drove to work, it overwhelmed me again. Just –this deep feeling of not being enough to anyone. Not being strong enough to carry the work-load of my job, not being present enough for my puppy, who so lovingly takes care of me when I am down, not being able to maintain my credit score for mortgage rates and mortgage insurance rates — not being there enough for my mother and father and aunt as they face the barrel of a gun. Just — not having the ability to be all things to everyone I love. To be capable enough to handle work and personal finances and obligations. Feeling as though I’m cracking from the inside out.
And that’s not even taking the MS and all that goes with it into account. The shingles, the overwhelming heat and low lighting of my new office (neither things helpful for my MS and Optic Neuritis), the fatigue, the weakness — my body letting me down just when I need it the most.
The pressure of everything.
It is in these moments that I know — no matter how many people I have who love me, who support me– I am the only person who can take care of me (you know, when it comes right down to it). I am the only one who can scoop my battered being up and begin to heal things.
Sometimes I doubt that I know how to do that. But little things, bit by bit, remind me of myself. Chai lattes from Starbucks. Show tunes on Pandora. Breathing slowly and repeating my mantra over and over until I feel even again. “Leg Warmers” hanging on my wall. Breathing.
I make mistakes. But at the end of the day, I do try my best. And sometimes I will fail. But more often, I will succeed. And also, tomorrow is the last day of February. Whew.
new routines
So, last week I began my hot lemon water routine, and this week I was completely determined to begin having a smoothie every day for breakfast. But here’s the thing — it’s one thing to feel super motivated on a Saturday afternoon — it is quite another to feel as motivated at 6am on a gloomy Monday.
This morning, as I dragged myself from my amazingly comfy bed and took the obligatory shower, I decided that we’d purchased all the ingredients and I really didn’t want to waste more food. Because it’s sad.
But also —
Because back in October, as I finished up my week at OHI, the instructors asked us how many raw meals we could commit to per day after leaving OHI. My immediate reaction was — Well, I can commit to one a week. That’s the extent of my love of raw food.
But then I realized — no, I could actually commit to one a day. Because smoothies are a meal, and smoothies are raw (well, the ones I make are … I guess you could make a smoothie that didn’t qualify as raw, but that’s beside the point!).
And then months and months slipped by. And MS took over my life, and then my job took over my life, and then holidays took over my life. And then I resurfaced at the beginning of February, and I thought — well, there’s no time like the present!
The man and I tend to talk a really good game, and then we sort of follow through and then reprimand ourselves for sort of following through but not all the way following through. So I got a handy dandy Word document that is laid out like a calendar, and we both started February with goals.
For example, tonight is my cooking night while the man hits up the gym. And I am trying out a whole roasted cauliflower recipe. I really hope it’s good!
And I’m also going to keep making smoothies in the morning. And drinking my hot lemon water. And going to yoga. And swimming. And taking my vitamins. And hopefully blogging regularly. So — here’s to hoping it’s an all the way kinda thing, and not a sort of kind of thing.
life lessons
So here we are, the second of February. Life seems to have kept up its ferocious pace, and the man and I are sitting around our kitchen island as I tap away at the keyboard and he produces culinary masterpieces to the soundtrack of “Chef”.
I wrote a little bit ago about the things I’d managed to do every day since the beginning of the year — which inevitably meant that the end was coming sooner than I anticipated! I managed to keep up my vitamin ritual, but as for blogging — I really dropped the ball.
On the flip side of that coin, John and I visited –and then subsequently purchased– our new home on the 24th of January. And when you commit to building your first home, it becomes a lot, all at once. We drove down to our new home site five times in a seven day span — and it’s not a short drive! But it’s wildly exciting, and all-consuming, and a huge next step for the two of us, which is a big deal on so many levels.
That being said, I think I need to go back to the idea of taking my vitamins every day.
I made this crazy commitment for a very vain reason. I thought that taking vitamin E would help my poor, tired, dried out, fried hair recover a little from the abuse I routinely put it through. Aka hot tools. So at the end of December I recommitted to my vitamins, and other than the 28th of January (when the man and I officially bought our house) I have not missed a day. And that includes the night in LA when I took my vitamins upon returning from dinner and being completely delirious due to fatigue.
Today, I began another (very small) change to my daily routine.
I ‘ve known about this for a while. But I never really felt all that inspired. (See what happens as you age and begin noticing discomfort where none used to exist?!?) Today, I began my morning with warm water with lemon.
I’d like to tell you that it didn’t change a thing. Sadly, not true. (Sometimes I want health advice to fall flat, just to make me feel better about my love of fried chicken and chardonnay).
This post isn’t about the water. Although — seriously — try it. It sort of lifts one’s morning. This post is about making small, permanent changes. Things you can begin, and then just somehow, stick with. And it benefits your life.
A couple things I’d like to say. (Zero significance to order — just how things popped into my head).
1. I discovered zucchini pasta about a year ago. I am stupidly in love with it. I am able to make zucchini pasta unhealthy. That is the truth. But it tastes amazing. And my thought is this — zucchini pasta is better than regular, white flour pasta, right? Right.
2. I have a lot of knowledge in my brain. I’ve been fortunate enough to have an amazing resource in my boss’s wife, I’ve attended a retreat that does actually change how you think and feel about food, and I know inherently — my body tells me so — that some choices are just better than others (see zucchini pasta vs. regular pasta in #1 above). Unfortunately, that doesn’t change my love for wine, Starbucks, and the occasional baked good (among other terrible things, such as dairy, and meat).
3. I think everyone’s journey is their own. I didn’t used to feel this way. I used to feel (despite what I may or may not have written on this very blog) that health was another form of competition. I am a very competitive person. I do not like to lose. This may be why my brain is full of so much knowledge. But there is a true difference between enjoying life and competing in life. I don’t know that I really understood that until recently.
4. I like lists. It helps me clarify my thoughts. Just an FYI.
5. It might sound like a little thing, but small changes that I stick with become big changes. Example: Christy Turlington once said in an interview that she never slept with make-up on, and she moisturized every day. I think I read that when I was twelve. To this day, I’m almost manic about washing my face. I remember times in college –when I was black out annihilated — that I’d wake up the next morning with a washed and moisturized face. I made a tiny little change and it has become part of my routine — something I’ve done for 23 years. Insane. I mean — seriously insane when you think about it.
6. I am not going to focus on dieting any more. It’s stressful and it just makes everything not very fun. I think I’m just going to try every day to be the best I can be — and sometimes, that might mean jalapeno poppers and fried chicken for the Super Bowl. And I love just being okay with that.
Life ain’t easy. That’s the truth. So why make it harder than necessary? Find something healthy — like, say zucchini pasta — and really make it your own. Enjoy it. And rejoice in the knowledge that you made a smart choice. And live in that.
Happy Shortest Month of the Year all.
xoxo
small respite
It’s not often nowadays that the man and I sit down and watch a movie sans devices and distractions. And yet, somehow, last night we did just that completely out of the blue. Finished with our Downton catch up, we noticed a movie that we’d both be hankering to see – and so, we watched.
Lasse Hallstrom’s “The 100 Foot Journey” is everything that is good about food. Food is wondrous, and beautiful and creative and sensual. It is all things and no things — that’s sort of how I feel about the intangibility of it.
There are some film shots in the movie that made me fall in love with cooking all over again — and I’ve had a very long love affair with food.
It’s a simple and gentle film — it doesn’t sucker punch you, and it makes you fall in love with the beauty of France, even if you didn’t mean to.
It’s been a long and winding week. Some good news, some excitement, a lot of stress and pressure for the end of the month. And last night I dreamt of whisking fresh eggs in the French countryside. That’s how visceral the film was. And human, in a Hollywood sort of way.
It’s exactly what I needed.
monday monday
Writing every night of this month has really taught me something about discipline. And what I want to put out into the world.
I have to confess something. I was nearly asleep on Saturday night at my parents house — I could hear the voices of my husband and parents around the table drinking scotch and celebrating Rabbi Burns. And I realized, in my champagne haze, that I hadn’t blogged. Which seemed ironic, since I’d spent my writing time on Friday night talking about blogging consistently.
So, in light of all that had transpired on Saturday, I somehow managed to tap out a few sentences on my cell phone and then promptly fell asleep.
I didn’t really remember exactly what I’d written — fatigue and several glasses of champagne are not the best combination. But when I revisited it, I was a little struck by the rawness, the real-ness. Writing is such an art — somehow using words to sculpt imaginary worlds — or paint pictures of one’s reality.
If blogging every night has taught me anything, it’s the power of language, the power of words. Sometimes I’m introspective, sometimes I’m mundane, sometimes I’m full of excitement and energy. Sometimes I’m just — blah. But sitting here every night, trying to form a cohesive piece of writing — it’s been so helpful, such constructive discipline. I’m glad I keep putting the effort forth, even when I think I have nothing to say.
D5 Creation