When I started this blog, my intention was to contemplate life and find balance. I have quickly discovered that this process is not always blog-worthy. SO I'm now just using it as a place to empty my head.
Four days ago I joined MyFitnessPal.com because I'm tired of feeling fat.
I did fairly well at the begining of the year to uphold my promise to myself to fall in love with Fitness again. I was doing yoga about three times a week, I had cut out fast food from my diet, and I started cooking lighter meals. Just as Fitness and I were starting to feel that spark in our relationship again, Laziness dropped by unannounced. And it brought its friends Food Cravings and Mental Block. In a matter of what felt like minutes, I had retreated back to my previously bad relationship with Laziness.
Then, one weekend, I was walking Race for the Cure, and I bumped in to Fitness. It commented on my cute pink running shoes and pointed out the 55+ aged cancer survivor that jogged past me. The lightbulb came on...again. I'm 24! I should be out having fun with Fitness, not couped up inside with Laziness! I hemmed and hawed over how I was going to try and get back together with Fitness, and decided that I needed visuals. I needed to see how much I ate on a piece of paper, I needed to see how often and how long I exercised on a chart, and I needed to see what others were up to.
My goal is to run the untimed 5K Race for the Cure next year. Sorry laziness, it’s over between you and me.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Emptying my head.
I am masquarading as a responsible adult. I am very uncertain of my future, and very uneasy about it. I am totally rocking out to Moztart right now. I am excited to go to China! I am scared that I will run out of money, get frustrated by the language barrier, or be quarenteened for having the swine flu. I am frustrated by the non-actions of someone, and frustrated that I give a shit about it. I am flattered by the actions of someone else, and nervous about what may come of it. I am wondering if the man in my dreams is turning out to not be the man of my dreams and the man I never dreamed about is actually the man I've always dreamed of. I am chosing to not over-think it, take it all at face value, and move on day by day. I am in dire need of a nap. I am wanting to rid my life of toxic people. I am doing nothing towards this hazardous waste depositing. I am worried that my cat is dying. I am procrastinating doing my homework because I don't want to do it. I am ready for school to be over...about four weeks ago.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Classic Rewind
Classical music makes my soul dance.
I haven't taken the time to sit back and enjoy the complexities, and intricate simplicities of a classical piece since my sister and I saw the Nutcracker during the 2007 Christmas season.
We got a new PA system in my office the other day. The receptionists have chosen classical music to play over the speakers. I am overjoyed! It's as if they knew my mind needed to quiet down, and knew the remedy.
I just wish I paid more attention to the composers during fifth grade music class, then I could at least name the people that move me.
I haven't taken the time to sit back and enjoy the complexities, and intricate simplicities of a classical piece since my sister and I saw the Nutcracker during the 2007 Christmas season.
We got a new PA system in my office the other day. The receptionists have chosen classical music to play over the speakers. I am overjoyed! It's as if they knew my mind needed to quiet down, and knew the remedy.
I just wish I paid more attention to the composers during fifth grade music class, then I could at least name the people that move me.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Oh Zen...
Things I find Zen-ful:
My thursday night yoga class
Walking to work in the morning
Visualizing myself on a beach
Getting lost in an art project
Things I don't find Zen-ful:
Looking around my dirty apartment - getting overwhelmed
Sitting at work with nothing to do
Arguing with my family
Feeling overbooked
Every now and then I forget my resolution. I forget that I'm trying to simplify my life and maintain a Zen mindset. I get lost in the hussle and bussle of summer events, forgetting to take two seconds to just breathe and reset. This is why I love my thursday night yoga class. It forces me to be in the moment for an hour, as opposed to furture thinking or ruminating about past conversations.
I believe I have too much on my plate right now, it's hard to keep it steady. A couple of weeks ago, we made a roles and contexts map for a class project. We were asked to identify our different roles, and what contexts they fall under. Then we had to map out connections, strains, and provide adjectives or descriptors to define how we fill that role, or what that role brings out in us. On my map, the only strain I noticed was my determination to be independent yet desire for intimacy. Seemed simple enough at the time.
Over that last week or so, I've noticed that I completely underestimated my roles. Or more accurately, I completely underestimated what these roles demand of me. I'm not just a sister, I'm a maid of honor. I'm not just a student, I'm a graduate student in the home stretch. I'm not just an intern, I'm an applicant for a full-time job. I'm not just a friend, I'm a future roommate with 6 weeks to get ready to move. I'm not just a volunteer for 4H, I'm an adult staff member, committee member, and training director.
Suddenly, my simple "To Do List" has become a "Shit that needs to get done in order to keep my job, raise my grades, keep my boss happy, assist my sister, and organize my personal life List." It would be nice if a week was 9 days long.
My thursday night yoga class
Walking to work in the morning
Visualizing myself on a beach
Getting lost in an art project
Things I don't find Zen-ful:
Looking around my dirty apartment - getting overwhelmed
Sitting at work with nothing to do
Arguing with my family
Feeling overbooked
Every now and then I forget my resolution. I forget that I'm trying to simplify my life and maintain a Zen mindset. I get lost in the hussle and bussle of summer events, forgetting to take two seconds to just breathe and reset. This is why I love my thursday night yoga class. It forces me to be in the moment for an hour, as opposed to furture thinking or ruminating about past conversations.
I believe I have too much on my plate right now, it's hard to keep it steady. A couple of weeks ago, we made a roles and contexts map for a class project. We were asked to identify our different roles, and what contexts they fall under. Then we had to map out connections, strains, and provide adjectives or descriptors to define how we fill that role, or what that role brings out in us. On my map, the only strain I noticed was my determination to be independent yet desire for intimacy. Seemed simple enough at the time.
Over that last week or so, I've noticed that I completely underestimated my roles. Or more accurately, I completely underestimated what these roles demand of me. I'm not just a sister, I'm a maid of honor. I'm not just a student, I'm a graduate student in the home stretch. I'm not just an intern, I'm an applicant for a full-time job. I'm not just a friend, I'm a future roommate with 6 weeks to get ready to move. I'm not just a volunteer for 4H, I'm an adult staff member, committee member, and training director.
Suddenly, my simple "To Do List" has become a "Shit that needs to get done in order to keep my job, raise my grades, keep my boss happy, assist my sister, and organize my personal life List." It would be nice if a week was 9 days long.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Another Day Another Post
After a slightly unneccesary hiatus, my blog is back. Perhaps not in full swing, but it's back.
I took the month of April off to write a screenplay...which I never finished. And have struggled to remember to check-in to blog world.
Not finishing my screenplay made me realize something. I love starting creative projects, but either loose interest or struggle to find time to finish them. I'm a chronic project starter, but not a project finisher. I like getting things started, but finishing them is less important. I'm not really sure why - I mean, I like the feeling of having something accomplished, so why does it not transfer to creative projects? Perhaps there is an underlying meaning - perhaps finishing a project is symbolic of closing a chapter on my life that I am not ready to close.
Or perhaps there is no rhyme or reason, no complicated meaning, no need to over think it, just let go laughing. :-)
I took the month of April off to write a screenplay...which I never finished. And have struggled to remember to check-in to blog world.
Not finishing my screenplay made me realize something. I love starting creative projects, but either loose interest or struggle to find time to finish them. I'm a chronic project starter, but not a project finisher. I like getting things started, but finishing them is less important. I'm not really sure why - I mean, I like the feeling of having something accomplished, so why does it not transfer to creative projects? Perhaps there is an underlying meaning - perhaps finishing a project is symbolic of closing a chapter on my life that I am not ready to close.
Or perhaps there is no rhyme or reason, no complicated meaning, no need to over think it, just let go laughing. :-)
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Zen-less
I’ve felt that the last few weeks have been rather Zen-less, and I’m not sure why. I’ve stuck to my healthy food intake plan (for the most part, aside from a couple of days of self-indulgence to celebrate my birthday), but haven’t been motivated to do yoga, or take any time for self-contemplation.
I feel like I keep saying I know what to do to keep me motivated, but in all honesty I don’t. I’ve made my list of things that make me happy, and I can’t seem to keep it in mind. I have not found Zen. In fact, I think I took an exit off the road to Zen, traveled under and overpass, on to a gravel road, and hit a deer. That’s how far off from Zen I feel.
I feel like I keep saying I know what to do to keep me motivated, but in all honesty I don’t. I’ve made my list of things that make me happy, and I can’t seem to keep it in mind. I have not found Zen. In fact, I think I took an exit off the road to Zen, traveled under and overpass, on to a gravel road, and hit a deer. That’s how far off from Zen I feel.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Chronicle Moment
(This was created about a month ago, maybe more, but the feelings have returned...slightly. Bottom line, it needs to be said/posted)
Peace. Inner peace to be more precise. This is something I really struggle with. Shocker, I know. I don’t always appear to be the inner-battle type, but often times I am. Upholding an image of rock solid confidence and strength can be exhausting, especially if all you feel like doing is claiming defeat. I find I struggle most when it becomes a matter of upholding an image my friends have created for me. It’s usually not a drastic image – such as pretending to be clean and sober when in fact I’m a drug addict – but more on the subtle side of things. And it’s random things too. Like the way I eat, or my attitudes towards fitness, or which mind-numbing pass time I prefer (confession: stripping down to my skivvies and dancing around my apartment while listening to my Zune is my number one choice).
Okay, we all know I have a big appetite (no question there), but when did I allow myself to fall into the role of Champion Eater in Training, to the point where if I truthfully claim I’m full I’m met with disconcerted looks by my friends? Sometimes I find myself ‘powering through’ even though I’m stuffed. Why? Because I’m afraid my friends will think less of me if I don’t uphold that image? Because I’m afraid that if that’s not who I am, I’ve somehow lost myself?
We all know I’m not big on eating vegetables either, but when did I allow the phrase “I don’t eat green vegetables” become my tagline? The truth is, I think green vegetables are the only one’s I do eat (aside from corn and the occasional carrot). I purchased not one, but two zucchinis the other day, and had to endure the wrath of my friend’s concept of me and my poor eating habits when she looked at me and said “A zucchini? Really? I didn’t think you ate zucchini. You know that’s not a cucumber, right?” (Well, have you been to the store with my every time I’ve gone since the beginning of time? No. For all you know I only eat zucchini when you’re not looking) Two things about this irked me. A.) I’m not stupid, I know the difference between a cucumber and a zucchini and B.) Zucchini is part of the cucumber family, so technically it is a cucumber. Imagine the look of shock on her face if I had picked up asparagus! Or broccoli! Or a squash! (Okay, I don’t actually like squash all that much, but let’s pretend for emphasis).
Who have I let myself become? Or really, who have I let my friends think I am? This seems a bit of a harsh phrase to attach to food choices, but it’s the same idea. I’ve let my friends think I’m a bacon craving, veggie hating, human garbage disposal (I phrase I regrettably used to describe myself once). To the point where when I do make a healthy food choice (like *gasp* eating a zucchini), they are baffled by it. They even have the audacity to say “Who are you? What have you done with Casey?” A friend of mine last night offered me his leftovers (in order to get me to pour him some more kool-aid), to which I replied “No thanks, I just ate, I’m not hungry.” His disturbingly accurate response was “Like that’s ever stopped you before.”
The more I think about it, the more hurtful it all is. I’ve never thought of myself as someone who gives in to an image (at least not for awhile) and lose myself, my own thoughts and feelings, in the process. It makes me feel submissive – okay cripplingly disturbed look, you win. As if I don’t believe in myself enough to say “Hey, back off, your perception of me is totally fucked up.” A lot of what my friends think about me is true – I have a huge appetite, I LOVE bacon, I don’t eat many vegetables (well, I didn’t used to), I have been known to be hungry two hours after I eat – but it’s hurtful when they don’t accept the other things that are true – I do believe in physical activity, I like to eat some vegetables, I do get full, I do stop eating.
It’s unsettling when the moment hits you – where you realize that some of your actions are more motivated by what others think of you than what you think about yourself. I find sometimes I shy away from telling people about choices or resolutions I’ve made, because I’m…afraid seems most fitting…of what revealing this idea will do to their concept of me. But what am I so afraid of?! Are my friends really going to break up with me if I confess that I’m aiming to consume more vegetables, or document my expedition towards Zen, or replace chasing after men with yoga? Are they really going to break up with me if I stand up to them and say “Listen up! I eat zucchini, I think fitness is important, I can cook given the opportunity, I don’t want to get cable because I don’t want TV to rule my life, and I don’t care if I don’t dress my age, who made you the boss?”
The sad part about all of this is that the ones who should be reading this probably won’t. I don’t know if they’ve held on to the fact that I’m a writer, or if they’ve taken my failed attempts to finish a manuscript as evidence that I’m not serious about it, or they just choose to see me as the comic relief who spends all of her free time on Facebook (which is only partially true). Sometimes I feel like my closest friends don’t really know me at all – and that truly saddens me. But other times, I feel like they are the only ones who see me, who assist me in finding myself when I feel lost. So…what to do? Am I exaggerating this inner struggle? Or am I exacerbating it? Do I stand up, confess, and retaliate to my friends? Or sit back and let the storm pass? If I were a client of mine, I’d probably tell myself to confront my friends the next time they make a comment that irked me, or come clean about some of the things I’ve been thinking. Easier said than done.
Peace. Inner peace to be more precise. This is something I really struggle with. Shocker, I know. I don’t always appear to be the inner-battle type, but often times I am. Upholding an image of rock solid confidence and strength can be exhausting, especially if all you feel like doing is claiming defeat. I find I struggle most when it becomes a matter of upholding an image my friends have created for me. It’s usually not a drastic image – such as pretending to be clean and sober when in fact I’m a drug addict – but more on the subtle side of things. And it’s random things too. Like the way I eat, or my attitudes towards fitness, or which mind-numbing pass time I prefer (confession: stripping down to my skivvies and dancing around my apartment while listening to my Zune is my number one choice).
Okay, we all know I have a big appetite (no question there), but when did I allow myself to fall into the role of Champion Eater in Training, to the point where if I truthfully claim I’m full I’m met with disconcerted looks by my friends? Sometimes I find myself ‘powering through’ even though I’m stuffed. Why? Because I’m afraid my friends will think less of me if I don’t uphold that image? Because I’m afraid that if that’s not who I am, I’ve somehow lost myself?
We all know I’m not big on eating vegetables either, but when did I allow the phrase “I don’t eat green vegetables” become my tagline? The truth is, I think green vegetables are the only one’s I do eat (aside from corn and the occasional carrot). I purchased not one, but two zucchinis the other day, and had to endure the wrath of my friend’s concept of me and my poor eating habits when she looked at me and said “A zucchini? Really? I didn’t think you ate zucchini. You know that’s not a cucumber, right?” (Well, have you been to the store with my every time I’ve gone since the beginning of time? No. For all you know I only eat zucchini when you’re not looking) Two things about this irked me. A.) I’m not stupid, I know the difference between a cucumber and a zucchini and B.) Zucchini is part of the cucumber family, so technically it is a cucumber. Imagine the look of shock on her face if I had picked up asparagus! Or broccoli! Or a squash! (Okay, I don’t actually like squash all that much, but let’s pretend for emphasis).
Who have I let myself become? Or really, who have I let my friends think I am? This seems a bit of a harsh phrase to attach to food choices, but it’s the same idea. I’ve let my friends think I’m a bacon craving, veggie hating, human garbage disposal (I phrase I regrettably used to describe myself once). To the point where when I do make a healthy food choice (like *gasp* eating a zucchini), they are baffled by it. They even have the audacity to say “Who are you? What have you done with Casey?” A friend of mine last night offered me his leftovers (in order to get me to pour him some more kool-aid), to which I replied “No thanks, I just ate, I’m not hungry.” His disturbingly accurate response was “Like that’s ever stopped you before.”
The more I think about it, the more hurtful it all is. I’ve never thought of myself as someone who gives in to an image (at least not for awhile) and lose myself, my own thoughts and feelings, in the process. It makes me feel submissive – okay cripplingly disturbed look, you win. As if I don’t believe in myself enough to say “Hey, back off, your perception of me is totally fucked up.” A lot of what my friends think about me is true – I have a huge appetite, I LOVE bacon, I don’t eat many vegetables (well, I didn’t used to), I have been known to be hungry two hours after I eat – but it’s hurtful when they don’t accept the other things that are true – I do believe in physical activity, I like to eat some vegetables, I do get full, I do stop eating.
It’s unsettling when the moment hits you – where you realize that some of your actions are more motivated by what others think of you than what you think about yourself. I find sometimes I shy away from telling people about choices or resolutions I’ve made, because I’m…afraid seems most fitting…of what revealing this idea will do to their concept of me. But what am I so afraid of?! Are my friends really going to break up with me if I confess that I’m aiming to consume more vegetables, or document my expedition towards Zen, or replace chasing after men with yoga? Are they really going to break up with me if I stand up to them and say “Listen up! I eat zucchini, I think fitness is important, I can cook given the opportunity, I don’t want to get cable because I don’t want TV to rule my life, and I don’t care if I don’t dress my age, who made you the boss?”
The sad part about all of this is that the ones who should be reading this probably won’t. I don’t know if they’ve held on to the fact that I’m a writer, or if they’ve taken my failed attempts to finish a manuscript as evidence that I’m not serious about it, or they just choose to see me as the comic relief who spends all of her free time on Facebook (which is only partially true). Sometimes I feel like my closest friends don’t really know me at all – and that truly saddens me. But other times, I feel like they are the only ones who see me, who assist me in finding myself when I feel lost. So…what to do? Am I exaggerating this inner struggle? Or am I exacerbating it? Do I stand up, confess, and retaliate to my friends? Or sit back and let the storm pass? If I were a client of mine, I’d probably tell myself to confront my friends the next time they make a comment that irked me, or come clean about some of the things I’ve been thinking. Easier said than done.
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