Trust vs Control vs Fear vs Faith

When I find myself feeling a need to control someone or some situation, I realize I don't trust that things will work out without my personal intervention. When my well-being and happiness are at risk, I become vigilant about control. For me, the need to control reflects the absence of trust and the presence of fear.

What am I afraid of? Not being happy. Being hurt. Not having enough. Those are the fears of a toddler, aren't they? When do I graduate from this stage? When do I wake up and see that I am enough and I have enough just as I am? When will I be able to let go and let God in the truest sense of that expression?

Where is my faith when I am busy trying to be in control?

One of my favorite cartoons from the presidential campaign dates from the time when McCain and Palin were accusing Obama of calling Sarah Palin a pig. Remember the lipstick on a pig dust up? Well, there were pundits and prognosticators and bloggers and broadcasters saying that Obama had to do something or else the election might get away from him. Then I saw this cartoon:

Sometimes I think that's the way I am with God. I'm all, "God, feel free to tend to the really important things like healing the planet. When it comes to my life, don't worry, I got this." The truth is that I don't have it. I can only get more and more controlling until I spin out of control. For today, I am willing to take my exhausted little self, place it firmly in God's hands and say "uncle." Okay, God, I give up. You got this.

What I Know for Sure

In her magazine, Oprah likes to ask her interviewees, "What do you know for sure?" I've been thinking about that question the past few days.

This is a snippet of what I know that I know for sure:

1. How to grill
2. How to get over a broken or cracked heart
3. That life goes on

I am grateful that at 52 I can still laugh, love, trust, and believe in myself, in others, and in life. I am wise enough to know that heartaches are the risks you take for staying in the game. I am optimistic enough to believe in happy endings, despite much evidence to the contrary. I am trusting enough in my judgment and in life to pick myself up and get back in there. (Just don't ask me where "in there" is!)

What I know for sure is that "With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Strive to be happy.*

*Desiderata

Blooming from Within

The bud
stands for all things,
even those things that don't flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing;
though sometimes it is necessary
to reteach a thing its loveliness,
to put a hand on its brow
of the flower
and retell it in words and in touch
it is lovely
until it flowers again from within, of self-blessing...*

Saturday afternoon I stood in front of a full-length mirror and casually thought, "I don't like anything I see." I didn't even realize I had thought that until a later conversation with a friend.

I opened today's entry with the excerpt from "St. Francis & the Sow" to remind us that it's time to reteach our selves our loveliness. Today I looked in my mirror and noticed the lovely clearness of my skin. My face looked clean, clear, and hopeful. Inside me lives this magnificent girl/woman who needs to know that I see and value her.

What about you? What is it that you need to do to reacquaint your self with your innate loveliness? Will you look in the mirror today and greet yourself as a friend?

*St. Francis & the Sow by Galway Kinnell

One Breath at a Time (or Disengage Autopilot)

Last night as I watched the season finale of "Lost," I found myself breathing rapidly during commercials. That's when I realized I had been so engrossed during the show that I stopped breathing. I wasn't even aware that I had been holding my breath.

I wonder how often I do this during my life. Are there times where I don't even bother to breathe? Are there times when I let my choices (and ultimately my life) just go on autopilot? Yes and yes.

For today, I am willing to be conscious throughout my day. I will be present within each conversation I have. I will not peer ahead or look behind. I will stay in the present.

What about you? How can you live your life in the present tense today? How can you remember to breathe?

Silent Spring

Yes, I realize it's been over a month since I last posted. Thanks for calling or e-mailing to ask if I'm okay. Yes, I am okay. I've just been silently watching myself for the past few weeks. I have reached the following conclusion:

I need the distraction of my struggles with weight to keep me from noticing that I do not have a plan for living the rest of my life. As long as I stay mired in the day-to-day internal argument about what, when, and how much to eat, I don't have to realize that I'm just living from day to day. I have no overarching plan beyond notions of being happy and honest in the moment.

So, what now? I'm thinking of what I'd like my life to look like and then coming up with a plan for how to get there. What about you? What's your mid-life plan?

It's ironic that I started this blog to help me get healthier. I should have known my real problem was never about food. As we learned in the cycle of need, eating is the behavior, not the underlying need.

No Foolin'

I turn 52 today. This morning I tried to remember as many birthdays as I could. I particularly remember turning 15. I went around singing a little song..."I am f-i-f-t-double-e-n today." I also remember turning 16 and wearing a little blue skirt set. I felt so good inside my body that day. This is memorable because I've spent a lifetime wishing I could carve out a different body than the one I have.

My birthday wish this year is to recapture that feeling of being at home inside my body. That's my goal for the coming year. So, next year when I turn 53, I want to feel at home inside me - physically, emotionally and spiritually.

I wish you joy and peace of mind today. Happy birthday - even if you're not celebrating yours today!

Sometimes Poets Say It Best

Hope

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

-- Emily Dickinson