Grocery Store Magazines

My IQ can be high

            but that number on the scale better be low.

I find it interesting that smart women will stop everything they are doing  if they see the headline on a magazine promising a 10lb weight loss in a week.

I am an intelligent woman.

I had a 4.0 GPA in Graduate School.

I have a job that requires me to use my brain all day long.

I am the mother of two wonderful children.

I teach yoga in my down-time.

I am training for an 8K run.

I came to a screeching halt yesterday while waiting in line at the grocery store.

I was in a hurry.

The person in front of me was taking too long.

I was tapping my foot – I needed to hurry home.

            Then I saw it on one of those grocery store magazines, “eat this food to help you lose belly fat – 3x faster”.

My rational mind immediately said, “if there was a magical food to help you lose belly fat – all the major television networks would be reporting it”.

The irrational part of my mind said, “but maybe it will work, maybe it is a less expensive option so the diet industry doesn’t want those of us with belly fat to know”!

The rational part of my mind said, “ don’t do it”.

Of course, I told her to shut-up.

I grabbed the magazine and pretended to search for the recipe to the delicious chocolate cake featured opposite the diet article.

Where is the article?

            The person in front of me decided to hurry up now.

            I wish they would slow down, what’s the rush anyway.

            Life is too short to be in such a hurry.

Eureka! There it is, the article that will give me the secret to less belly fat.

I frantically search the article for that magical food – I don’t have much time.

The person in front of me is gone and the cashier is asking for my value savings card.

There it is –

            my answer —

                        what I was searching for –

Flaxseed.

Well, that is a load of crap!

I’ve already tried flaxseed and it didn’t work.

Humph! I guess I will have to go back to eating right and exercising.

To weigh or not to weigh...

You step on, you step off....
You step on slowly holding on to the counter, wall, chair, whatever is handy.....
You step on with one foot then slowly put down the other....
You squint your eyes shut tight...
Slowly open them and look apprehensively at the bathroom scale....
What will that number be today?
Will it cause you to smile, or maybe go on an eating binge or cry...

I hate to get on the scales.
I hate it so much so that when I go to the doctor I turn around backwards so I won't have to see that dreaded number.
This has been a struggle for me my whole life. 
I remember when I was 10 going to a friends house and she always wanted us to compare our weight.  I was never an overweight child - just not a super skinny child like my friend.  She always made the comment, oh my gosh you weigh 10 pounds more than I do.  This started my hatred of the bathroom scale.

I have been working on my aversion to the scale.
I have finally began to look at the scale as a way to track my health.  There are no magic numbers.  There is no number I am trying to achieve.  I am trying to maintain a healthy weight. 

Wow!  I sound like I am so comfortable with my weight now....
I don't know if that will ever happen. 
I have struggled with my weight my whole life. 
My Mom put me on my first diet when I was in third grade.  It was the KLB6 diet - I vividly remember thinking that maybe I can be as thin as my friend so when I went to her house next time she wouldn't think I was fat. 
My Mom was trying to help me feel better about myself but this is something I will always remember. 

I realized I needed to change me to be ok.  No one cares how much I weigh except me.   
I am not my weight.
I am not smarter or prettier when I weigh less.
I am the same person regardless of what that number is on the scale.
This is something I struggle with but I am working on becoming nicer to myself.  We all fall into the habit of becoming our own worst enemy.   We have to learn to like ourselves as we are.  When we become our own best friend; we can start the process of healing, becoming happier and becoming healthier. 

Smiles, Cat

Dreams

Dreams

I have spent a lot of my life being to scared to follow my dreams.

I have been afraid of failure.

I have been afraid of looking foolish.

I decided in 2009 to follow my heart and my dreams, this decision has changed my life. 

I have never felt stronger and more in control. 

I have plenty of days were there is not enough day, but I am making choices that empower me. 

All of these choices to follow my dreams have been hard but I believe they are worth it… 

Here is a something I wrote about my dreams, let me know if you like it or can relate. 

Smiles, Cat

Granny’s Cedar Chest

Granny’s cedar was like a treasure chest.

It was full of beautiful things.

Beautiful things she had collected over the years.

Beautiful things that were “too special” to use;

she was saving them for the perfect occasion.

Granny had an eye for a bargain, that is true, but more than that, she had an eye for things that were unique and beautiful.

She searched stores for many of her treasures, though many were family items.

When she brought something new home she took much care to place it in the “cedar chest” where it would remain safe;

where it would remain in perfect condition;

where it would be ready for use on that perfect, special occasion.

When my Granny died, I went through her cedar chests with my Father – yes she had several by now.

It made me cry to see the glorious treasure she had carefully and lovingly collected over the years.

Treasure she never enjoyed.

I suppose she enjoyed knowing she possessed it, but she never took it out and used it.  I have wondered about this over the years. 

Was this treasure of hers special to her just because she had it?

Did she ever own anything she wanted to use?

Did she look at some of her treasure and have a memory that went along with it?

Why was it so important to have beautiful things that sit like a treasure – unused?

I believe that Granny enjoyed the search for her treasure.  I believe she enjoyed knowing it was there.

Though the thought of unused treasure – waiting for a special occasion – makes me sad, maybe just knowing it was there was all the pleasure she wanted from her treasure.

How do I feel about this?

Of course, I have to explore, my feelings and why I felt so pressed to write about Granny’s cedar chest.

I look inside myself often these days.

I am searching for answers to questions about myself.

Why does it bother me so much that Granny never used any of these beautiful things?

I think about parts of myself I have hidden away like a treasure

“to perfect” to get out of My treasure chest.

I have spent years collecting my dreams and carefully placing them in my treasure chest.

Here in my treasure chest, my dreams will remain safe.

Here they will remain in perfect condition never to be found fault with; never to be shattered into a million delicate pieces.

Here my dreams remain a possibility.

Do I dare take them out?

Maybe if I just take out one of them and try it on for size.

Could I do that?

Could I trust myself to be careful with one of my precious dreams?

I think so and, you know, if this dream gets tattered or tarnished, I can still keep it.

It will still be beautiful in my eyes.

Maybe a bit of wear and tear will change it into something more beautiful than I could have imagined. 

Maybe just taking it out and letting it have the opportunity for fulfillment will turn it into something incredible;

Something beyond my wildest dreams.

Here goes,

I am taking out one of my treasures, one of my dreams.

It is so beautiful.

It has so much hope shining from within.

I am releasing it to grow to fruition.

Extraordinary.

Oh my gosh! My "big jeans" are too tight!

Oh my gosh! My "big jeans" are too tight!

How many pairs of jeans do you have in your closet? 

Are they all the same size?

I currently have three different sizes of clothes in my closet.

At any time, I can go through my closet and usually find clothes that are bigger than what I wear now and clothes that are smaller than what I wear now. 

I understand why we have sizes, but man does that number on the back waistband of my jeans mess with my mind.

I can wake up in a great mood, feel like the world is just waiting for me to make my mark on it – stroll over to the closet and pull out my favorite pair of jeans (that fit yesterday!) – and bam!  Someone must have snuck into my house in the middle of the night and switched out my clothes!  They are too tight.  Maybe my dinner had too much sodium in it last night, that must be it….I'm bloated.  I wonder if the dryer was on too hot and shrunk them - that could be it!  Maybe it was the sodium and the dryer conspiring with Loki, the Norse God of Mischief, to torture me. 

This scenario can change my mood from positive to negative in about a second.

This is never a good feeling but -

            Remembering that I don't have cancer anymore…

            Remembering that I am healthy…

            Remembering that I am loved…

These are things I can focus on.  These are things I should be focused on. 

Taking the time to look at the good instead of the frustrating, this is what I will focus on. 

Loki won't win this time.  J

What do you look at when you walk by a mirror?
Your smile?  Your nose?  Your belly?  Your hair?

Do you look at yourself and smile?
Smile for the wonderfully unique individual that is standing there?

Do you avoid looking at a part of you?
Or do you look at yourself and acknowlege all your amazing attributes?

I am wondering all of this because I just happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I walked down the hall.  My first reaction was to suck my stomach in.  Then glimpsed down at my legs, they were critiqued next. 
At this point I caught myself and stopped...stopped finding the negatives in myself.  Then I decided they weren't the negatives in me but what makes me unique.  I know this sounds like a cliche but it is true. 
The imperfections make me who I am.
I hope you can acknowledge the parts of you that are not perfect and see that these parts are what make you unique.  How boring to be just like everyone else!

I challenge you...

Are you like me? 

Is it hard for you believe in yourself?

I wonder why is it so hard to believe in ourselves? 

Others can believe in us

but until we find a way to believe in ourselves it just doesn't sink in, does it? 

I have found that when I look at the big picture I get overwhelmed. 

I need to look at tiny parts of this big picture and take them in one at a time.

Looking at what I have accomplished, big or small, and being aware of these accomplishments is a step towards recognizing that I am a strong, capable woman. 

We fall too easily into the trap of beating ourselves up. 

I wonder why that is so much easier than giving ourselves a simple pat on the back.

I challenge you to look at what you have accomplished today instead of what you have not. 

I challenge you to believe in yourself.   

In response...

I am glad to hear that you do not listen to people that try to bring you down.  I have found that the people that do that often do so to make themselves feel better by making others feel bad.  I have never understood that but recognizing it creates and awareness and helps to put it in its place!  It is hard to accept compliments - it is often hard to believe them.  Sitting back and being aware that people don't have to say anything helps to give their comments value.  Looking in the mirror and smiling is often an easy start to finding the beauty we each have within ourselves.  Here is a poem I wrote about that:

A Beautiful Soul

Most of my life I have heard – you are such a beautiful girl.  You have such a pretty face.

 I look in the mirror – where is this girl they are all talking about. 

The woman I see looking back at me is insecure. 

The woman staring right through me is scared. 

She is lonely, terribly lonely. 

She feels betrayed. 

She feels to blame for causing pain.  Did she ever mean to cause anyone pain?  No, but she carries that burden. 

When I look back into that mirror I see a woman who has had to be tacit to survive though it is so not in her nature. 

I see a woman who hates confrontation so much that she has allowed herself to become a victim.  I see a woman who despises herself for allowing her soul to be victimized. 

As I stand here in front of this mirror now.  I look closer.  I look deep into those hazel green eyes. I am searching for the girl in the woman. 

I think I see her.

No, I know I see her.  As I look into this woman’s eyes now I see hope.

I look closer – I see strength.  In this strength I see desire. 

Desire for change.  Desire for love.  Desire for happiness.

I see the girl that used to live inside this woman.  The girl that was told, “If you would only lose a little weight you would be beautiful, because you have such a pretty face”.  I see the girl that was told by men she was pretty only to be used and destroyed by them.  I see the girl who believed in love and hope and happiness. 

I look closely at this beautiful girl and watch as she sheds the burdens she has allowed to gather around her and pull her down.  I look closely and finally I see beauty.  

I see a beautiful soul.

Cat