Monday, September 21, 2009

Wardrobe Malfunction

Remember a couple of years ago the Spanx discussion on AFGZ? In my self righteous new lighter body I thought, "I will NEVER resort to wearing a girdle again." Pass the foundation garments, with gravy.

Maybe the darn thing is too little. I swear to God, I can hardly move in it. I got the over the waist down the thigh model. With the "crotch gusset." (Like that is a major selling feature.) If I attempted to p** through that small hole I would have the same results as when I relieve myself in the forest while hiking. Wet hiking boots. The Flex camisole is a little better. I can breathe in it. Unfortunately when I inhale it snaps upwards and rolls into a rubber band around my waist. Not the look I am going for. Sigh.

I did find a big purple outfit. A skirt and top. A crepey polyester elastic waist tunic top affair. An XL is too small and a 1X is too big. I opted for the 1X and will take in the elastic on the skirt. With the tartan sash and black shoes and pearls I am passable. I look like the mother of the bride but "Oh well." As matron of honor I figure it is my duty to make the bride look swell. Now I just need clothes for the shower and the rehearsal dinner. Sigh.

I watched a sermon the other morning that went straight to the heart of me. It was about the safety of living within your boundaries. As a person hooked on security I was all ears. According to Joyce (preacher) living outside your boundaries sets you up for danger. Breached food boundaries equal ill physical, emotional and mental health. Breached money boundaries equal debt and stress. Breached sexual boundaries equal disease and broken hearts and self respect. As a pacifistic people pleaser I frequently step outside of my boundaries and get mugged. I love the idea of living within my boundaries and being safe.

My new anti-people pleaser answer to everything is, "I'll get back to you." Then I go home and figure out all the consequences of saying yes. A really
safe and smart way to live I think.

Take care. Love Bea

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Fake Me

Question: Why do I feel like a fake all the time?

This week I have felt like more of a fake than I have in years. I am tired of being the me others would like me to be. I am frustrated with going along to get along. I want to know what I think and feel, and say and do so.

I want a simple uninvolved life. I want to do what I want to do when I want to do it. "IRRESPONSIBLE AND UNCHRISTIAN" clang back and forth in my brain. If I do not feel concern or compassion I do not want to be forced to care or take action. "With that attitude you will end up miserable and alone." "What if everyone felt like that?" "You will hate yourself if you don't help." "That is not Christ like behaviour." Jesus have mercy.

I have spent my whole life being manipulated by people and situations into doing stuff I did not want to do. I have gone along with it because I figured that unless I was pushed I would sit on my ass and not do or care about anyone or anything.

This morning I rescued a horse.

Most every day at the crack of dawn we walk down a country road. We know all the dogs and cats and horses. This morning there was a big beautiful bay horse in a pasture full of hay bales. A pasture with an old, old fence and no gates. A pasture that is not meant to house livestock. It was dark and foggy. A busy county highway runs parallel to the country road we walk on. As we walked past the horse came tearing out of the pasture and ran up on the highway. I did not think twice. I ran after the horse. It stopped in the middle of the highway frightened by the lights of the oncoming traffic. I ran up to its head and said, "Come here." I was scared out of my wits so sounded very stern. The horse turned, looked at me and then followed me down into the bar pit and back onto the dirt road. I got between it and the highway and kept urging it forward. When we got to the place where I thought it belonged I took it into the corral and shut the gate. I then went up to the house and rang the door bell. Keep in mind it is only 6:30 a.m.. I said to a very startled woman in a bathrobe, "Your horse was on the highway and we brought it back." She yelled and ran to get her husband. At that point we left. I sure hope it was their horse.

The point of all that was, no one forced me to care about that horse. I could have just walked on and assumed someone else would care about it. But I didn't. I didn't want to. I wanted to help. I was in fact desperate to help. Like with Mollie. And the cats. What if I can trust the Love within me to direct my caring and concern? What if I don't need to be pushed and guilted into helping others? What if I can trust I will be led and motivated to help where I am needed? What then? I'll bet I will be way less fake. And way less frustrated. If I have something to offer in a situation I will want to get involved. If not...God has someone else in mind for the job. Whoa Nellie.

Take care of yourselves. Love Bea

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Limpimg Along

I feel like my body is living at hyper speed and my brain is foggily attempting to catch up. Much going on around here at present.

In the midst of the hubbub I am attempting to find a purple dress for friend Kim's wedding. What an emotional nightmare. I am in agony about my 15 pound weight gain and each dress I try on is a fresh hell. When you gain weight nothing fits. Not your underwear or your coats or your jeans or your shoes. It costs money to replace all of that so you make do with the couple of pieces that still fit while telling yourself you will soon lose the weight and won't have to replace everything. But then comes life. I want to have clothes that fit for the week I will be at Kim's. So what was just a hunt for a big purple dress has now turned into a marathon shopping event for a whole new larger sized cheap wardrobe. I hate it.

Over the holiday weekend we went to Jenny Lake Lodge for lunch. Having thrown caution to the winds I was eating the sumptuous repast and not counting the cost when I noticed a lady at our companion table staring at me. She was drilling me with her eyeballs. I was unnerved and faltered getting my chocolate cake into my mouth. When I dropped the bite she sort of came to and looked away. As we were leaving she stopped me and apologized for staring. "I have been on a diet for a year now and I almost couldn't tear my eyes away from that cake you were eating." As she was the friend of a friend and we were in no hurry I asked her about her diet. Turns out she has lost 75 pounds so far. She has plateaued and has been stuck for six months. She is living in abject fear. We sat down at this point and talked for an hour. We discussed "failure."

I feel like a failure and so does she. To be a failure at weight loss negates every good thing in one's life. We discussed our successes and blessings. Between the two of us it was quite a list. And it didn't matter a hill of beans. If you can't get and keep the fat off you might as well be dead. I see this is stupid thinking even as I write it, nevertheless....

I have no answers and am aware that this is not an encouraging post. But it made me feel better to say it out loud.

Cheers, Bea

P.S. I look like Barney in those big purple dresses.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Back To Basics

A "narrow minded" homophobe. Sigh. Once more into the breech.

I have been writing about myself for three years. I thought most of my basic beliefs had come out by now. Apparently not.

I believe in God and I believe Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God and I believe in the Holy Spirit. I believe in sin and I believe we can choose "outer darkness" if we do not repent of our sins. I believe sin is what is described in the Bible as "sin." I also believe sin is anything that separates a person from God. I have made food sin because I think about it way more than I do God. I sometimes waste my prayer time thinking about the width of my thighs instead of the depth and breadth of God's love for me. I have made food a false idol in place of God. I have sinned sexually (Bible definition), and I am a terrible gossip (Bible definition). I sin a lot, and I repent a lot, and I am forgiven a lot. I am grateful.

Okay, I was going to give up writing about food, but...I have been given a valuable insight about me and my eating. I get joy from eating. Not just happiness at having my hunger/anxiety relieved, but joy. No big surprise right? Well it was to me. Joy and food do not belong together. Joy belongs to the divine not the mundane. My dog's smile, my lover's touch, an insight during a quiet bird filled morn, these things bring me joy, not cheesecake. I am trying to get food to bring me closer to God. It ain'ta gonna happen. Food is just fuel.

"Yes" to whoever said it was okay for food to be boring. In fact for me it needs to be boring. Too much choice sets my senses a whirl and I want more, more, infinitum. Same old, same old is my answer. I am grateful.

Tres interesting times at church as we all attempt to come to terms with ELCA's recent decision. The division is about half and half. Painful when a family of beloveds prays and comes up with exact opposite answers. We are struggling forward together at this point. I pray it will always be so. Amen.

Take care. Love Bea