Break Through

I'm back!  This is the blog that suits me.  I'm so happy to be back and want to thank Cindy for helping me to figure out WHY I was unable to access this blog in the first place.  It has been so long since I've been here!  I've tried a few different blog ideas but keep coming back to this.
A lot has happened since I last posted, as you've probably read in other posts on my other blogs.  I hope to consolidate them all soon (if I can figure THAT out).
But on to my breakthrough!
I thought of my 3 blogs: iBlooming, My Mediterranean Experiment and By Still Waters and decided this might be most fitting in By Still Waters, because this is yet another moment where my soul has been quieted but I always return here to this place.  So I want to share this with you tonight.

I had an emotional meltdown this morning.
I'm in the midst of a nutritional-lifestyle-change (NOT a diet) and worked all day yesterday to plan my meals, measure my portions, package them just so and prepare for the day ahead-today.  I knew I would have to get up early to get all four of my boys, (yes, 4-there's been an addition since I last wrote here!) ready and out the door.  We had plans to meet the hearse at the funeral home at 9 am.

Let me rewind a little bit.  Our pastor is on vacation for 2 weeks.  I led the service and preached last week.  After the service I was told that one of the members of our church had passed away the previous week and would I be able to lead the funeral service set for later this week.  Of course I agreed and the memorial service was held last Friday with a burial on Monday, today.

And so the morning went quickly and I had my breakfast on the stove to cook while I fed the boys and got them dressed and packed drink bottles and snacks for the walk that they would take with Cindy while I led the service at the cemetery.  It was harried, rushed and even in the midst of that I felt like I just might have it all together...
Boys in the van....check
All buckled in....check
Dog in the house....check
Doors locked....check
iPad with notes on it for service....check
Snacks....check
My nutritional necessities for later....check
Oh my gosh...keys, where are my keys?!?!?....oh, in my purse....check
And so our 20-minute drive began, feeling pretty good.  I was even early enough to stop at the bank to make a deposit before heading off.  As I pulled up I saw a message, the ATM screen apologized for my inconvenience but it as temporarily not in service.  Hmpf.  This was an important deposit.  Grrr. On to the red light where the boys played 20 questions with me about the upcoming events of the day when it hit me-I didn't bring the breakfast I had so painstakingly planned and prepared for myself.  And to boot I couldn't say with all certainty that I had shut the stove off!
Begin the meltdown.
I wasn't just crying.  I was blubbering.  I was weeping.
"What happened?"  the older boys asked from the back of the van.
"What's wrong mommy, whats wrong?"
"I forgot my breakfast, " was all I could say in reply.  True.  And on I wept.
My Samuel said (as I would say to him if he were crying about his breakfast), "You must be hungry."
"I am, Sammy."
And then, a few minutes later, "That's enough, Mom."

When we reached Cindy outside the funeral home I was calmed enough to go in search of the funeral director.  I told Cindy what had happened and she offered her car for me to take to the cemetery and she would take the boys back home to make sure the stove was off.  (Bless her!  And it was off!)  I couldn't help this feeling of overwhelm and sadness.
As the van drove away carrying my friend and my children inside, and I sat alone waiting for the funeral director I had to think.  I knew I held some grief for the family I was serving.  I also realized that I had worked hard yesterday and had been in a rush that morning which could make anyone feel overwhelmed or emotional.  But why the weeping?  Then it hit me.

SIDEBAR:
We're really getting up close and personal here, and after such a long absence too...
After my mom was diagnosed with cancer and various other stressful events happened in my family I took myself to counseling for extra support and to try and get a handle on things.  It wouldn't do to have my anxiety get the better of me.
While in counseling the emotional breakdown I had was surrounding the births of my children.  (One source of grief whether anticipatory, secondary, ambiguous, can trigger others).  I have had 3 cesarean sections and have never been able to deliver a baby naturally, something I had always assumed would be possible.  When noticing such a pointed response to the subject, my counselor asked me what meaning I had placed on the idea of having a natural childbirth.  I didn't know.
I've thought about it for weeks.  I don't know what meaning I placed on the idea of natural childbirth. The question has bothered me since she asked it months ago.  This morning as I was getting ready, in the midst of my chaos, I asked myself out loud in the mirror one more time, "What meaning did I give natural childbirth?"
END SIDEBAR.

Then it hit me.  I had worked SO HARD yesterday to get all the food prepared, meals planned, portions measured and packaged just to have the day start out with a miss?  I missed the goal of eating within one hour of waking, missed the meal entirely and all the work put into that yummy banana "pancake" sitting on my stove, just sitting there...
That's why I was so upset, that's why I was so sad.  It was because I had tried so hard to do it right.  I had tried so hard to have my day of food planned in advance.
I had done all that I was supposed to do during my pregnancies to prepare.  To care for the wee ones while they were within and to work out the plans for their arrival.
I didn't eat breakfast on time.  I supplemented with a protein shake instead of eating my cooked meal.
I didn't give birth naturally per my birth-plan.  I had c-sections and long recoveries.

It may seem like a trifle to some reading this.  Even my husband likes to look at the other side of the coin.  "If we were living in colonial days you might not be sitting with me here now," he said.
"You may have died.  Bobby may have died....I'd probably be on my third wife by now."
But I believe in ambiguous grief and that we all grieve certain things in our lives without labeling it as such.  This is just one of those things for me.  Not to be dramatic.  Not to drag anything out.  Just because it meant something to me.

And so, I think about my breakfast that ended up being my bedtime snack.  I consider those c-sections and the scars I bear and the children I hold tight and I am peaceful.

POV

Two weeks ago I found out that my mother has breast cancer.  I responded as any loving daughter who lives over 6 hours away from her parents and has 4 four children and 2 part time jobs that prevent her from running home at a moments notice would...I ate, and stressed, and panicked, and prayed, and ate.  Oh, and cried.
Since I don't believe in scales I'm not sure how many pounds I added in just one week, but I wouldn't be surprised to find it was more than two.  I can say that I fended off about 3 panic attacks, a war I haven't had to wage for some time.  I didn't lose sleep, I was probably too exhausted from fighting off panic attacks and semi-comatose from the sugar intake that I wasn't giving myself enough insulin to cover, because, oh yeah, I am anxious about treating myself aggressively with insulin (not a good thing to be anxious about as a diabetic!)
That first week trying to grasp the information given to me and the realization that so much more information was needed was a difficult one.  It was then that I decided I needed an outlet.  Our family had joined the local YMCA at the start of the year in efforts to expose our boys to the pool.  I enjoy the pool so I would alternate weeks taking one boy at a time.  It had been a month since I'd been to the Y and I had never gone solo so I decided to make it a priority to go to the YMCA after one of my busiest days of the week.
I had packed a bag so that I would have no excuse to go.  After a work day that had started at 8am and ended at 8pm I just sat staring for a moment at the bag of clothes.  I had very nearly talked myself out of even so much as opening it but before I could I jumped up and changed as quickly as I could with a sense of near desperation.  I got in my car and drove straight to the gym, two or three more blocks and I could be at my front door, but I made the turn into the parking lot and went into the building.
I chose a recumbent bike to work out which is the best option for my poor range of motion in my left knee.  Even at that my foot slipped from the pedal several times as I got started and sought the perfect height of the seat, tension in the pedals and pedaling speed.  Finally, after some time I started a work out on the machine and began.  I took several deep breaths to cleanse myself of the day, the weight of worry on my shoulders and the in attempt to gain focus.  In other words I was utilizing one of the basic coping skills I teach and practice with my clients who deal with anxiety.
After my cleansing breaths I found that the Olympics were on the television in front of me and that gained my interest almost immediately.  So I settled in to watch the snowboard action on the screen.  In doing so I realized I was having a hard time breathing and my legs felt like lead.  'How long have I been at this anyway?' I wondered.  My friends, the timer on the bike said 0:01:48.  I'm not kidding.
To my credit I was able to tune out the crying thighs and panting breath to watch some quality athletics and to bank a full 20 minutes on the exercise bike.
In my 20 minutes on the bike and in the midst of physical effort and Olympic thrills I was able to reflect on all that had been happening in my life in the last week.  Thinking of my mothers recent diagnosis led me to think about my own diagnosis almost 23 years ago.  I had been an athlete in high school, running track, playing soccer and cheerleading for basketball season.  I took pride in working hard, pushing myself physically past any level I thought I was capable of.  When I was diagnosed with bone cancer in my left femur the summer before my Senior year and was told I could lose my leg because of it, I was devastated.  It rocked my world on so many levels.  But as I sat on the recumbent bike this particular day, the only exercise machine in the place that could accommodate my handicap, I realized that I've lost some of the drive and determination I had as a young girl.  The girl who would run until her sides hurt and then run some more.  The girl who would work and work to jump higher and become more flexible.  The one who played coed league soccer and stood up to very tall and strong young men just because she believed she could.
"I wish I could run."  That's what I say now.  "I wish I could bend my knee at least 90 degrees so I could ride a bike or kneel."
"I wish I were more flexible so I could do yoga."
"If I could run I would do it all the time.  I would run in races and be athletic."
As these thoughts, my mantras of the last few years, played through my mind there in the middle of the YMCA I had an epiphany.  A thought slapped me in the face and I probably literally jumped.
"You are able to walk, why not do that all the time?"
"You are able to ride THIS bike, you should get better at this.  Go longer, faster, harder."
And so it was that my POV, point of view, shifted.  In my quest for a simpler, happier, healthier life I realized at that moment that I need to focus on what I am doing and can do instead of wasting  each moment bemoaning those things I am unable to do, things out of my reach.
I need to focus on what I am doing and what I can do.
That includes continuing to be the devoted and loving daughter over 6 hours away from her parents at such a difficult time with 4 kids and 2 part time jobs that keep her from running home at a moments notice.  I'll be the best daughter, mother, worker, wife and friend that I can be from right where I am.
I know that it's so practical and so plain-as-the-nose-on-your-face ordinary but that thought in that moment I believe changed me.  So I wanted to share it with you.  It has taken some of the proverbial weight off to be honest.  I want to focus on what I am doing and what I am realistically able to do as I urge myself to be stronger,  healthier and more focused.  It is a simple and beautifully freeing truth that there is no more expected of me than that.  Welcome to my new POV.  Breathe the fresh air!

In the Silence

It was a particularly difficult day.  As a mother I have these days fairly often.  If you have ever cared for a child you know that while each child brings such unique joy to life they are also capable of bringing frustration in equal measure.
At age four my oldest is consistently waging a war of wills with me.  He is a smart boy who can count as high as you want him to and knows how to write his letters big and small.  He is also one who feels he knows how and when things should be done which typically does not coincide with my instructions or will.
Our twins, at age 2, almost 3, are playing follow-the-leader with their older brother in his pursuit of autonomy however, they bend to their parent's direction much sooner.  They are working to remember to use the toilet, share their toys and to use words not screams or hits to relay their emotions of frustration and anger.
All of these pre-school aged boys of mine are tender-hearted, creative, funny, impulsive (as one would expect of 3 and 4 year olds), curious and stubborn.  They love their baby brother fiercely and though he is only 4 months old they endeavor to include him in much of their work and play.
My baby.  This is the most amiable and pleasant baby you will ever meet.  The youngest of four boys would have to be be, wouldn't he?  When we brought this baby of mine home from the hospital I had to wake him up to feed him, "Hey little guy, time to eat now."  Even now he enjoys to sit and watch his brothers or his puppy dog do what they do, it doesn't matter what.  I read somewhere, regarding birth order, that the youngest child learns very early on how to seduce their caregiver and to draw people to them to get the attention they need.  If this is true, I absolutely agree because when my baby turns his beautiful blue eyes my way everything else fades and I'm held captive.  He looks into my eyes, smiles and says, "Aggooo" and it's the best thing ever.
But yesterday.  Let me say here that I've been learning, as each child has been added to my life, that it is most time folly to try and plan to get something done.  Attempting to tackle a predetermined to-do list is just asking for frustration.  Getting things done in a day with 4 children has to be more organic.  Such as, the boys want to play with their big trucks downstairs and the washer/dryer are down there so while they play a few loads of laundry gets done.  Or they want to read books to their baby brother and I get to clean the bathroom or take a shower.  Chores have to flow with the day, they can't necessarily be planned out, at least not in my reality.
So, I did what I should not have done and determined to get X,Y and Z done this particular day.  Between more messes than usual, overly tired 2 year olds into everything on different levels of the house and more time outs for the 4 year old than I can honestly remember, things did not happen the way I had hoped or planned.
I struggled with myself and my temper all day.  Fighting to not yell yet feeling as though I was not being heard.  Using self-talk to try and calm myself down to no avail.  And finally it was bedtime.  From the time breakfast was over to the time we brushed our teeth and said nighttime prayers the day had flown by, a flurry of tears and matchbox cars and marker on the kitchen floor.
After the nightly ritualistic calls of, "I need a drink", "Can I have another hug kiss?" and "I can feel my pee coming out", and my response to each I crawled into bed.  My husband and I heaved heavy sighs and each silently offered prayers of thanks for a now quiet house and a cozy resting place.
The stillness was broken by the cries of one of my two year olds.  This little boy in particular talks, laughs, sings and moves everywhere possible in his sleep.  I leapt up at the sound of his cries and went into his room to find him uncovered at the end of his bed with one leg wound into the ladder of the bunk bed.  His eyes weren't even open.  He moaned a bit when I detangled his leg, picked him up, nestled him into his covers, stroked his hair and gently kissed his forehead.  Then, as I sat next to him on his bed I couldn't move.  It was like the blue-eyed laser beam stare of my baby.  I was motionless, mesmerized by the beauty and wonder of this child before me.  With a hand on his head I thanked God for every part of his being.  The physical, emotional, mental and spiritual.  The parts of him that are funny and the parts of him that are stubborn.  I prayed for wisdom and strength, for health and joy.  This was a sacred moment for me.
I spent time with each of my boys that night, hands on their heads and hearts, stroking their little arms, kissing each finger.  Praying for their present and future, blessing them and thanking God for every inch and aspect of their being.
In the silence I was able to see things for what they were, to see each child for what he is-a miracle, a gift.  The whir and responsibilities of the day dimmed the light of sacredness, the silence served to illuminate.  I'm sure I will "struggle with myself" through many more days in this life, but I will be certain to recognize what is sacred and in doing so work to balance myself even during the most difficult of days.

The Impact of Others

As is often the case, I learn much from my time in session with my clients.  Perhaps that is why I wanted to be a counselor, so that I could continually learn from others in such a way.
This particular session was concluding and my client said that he wanted to adopt the phrase "get over it" as his mantra or words to live by.  He had heard a famous preacher on television talking about this phrase and it struck him that he is too sensitive to what others think, do and say and this seemed to be the remedy to all of that.
Immediately I was struck by the harshness of this phrase. "Get over it"?  It's too dismissive.  I relayed this to my client and suggested perhaps considering a different term.  "Assimilate it".
"What I mean by that," I explained, "is that it makes sense that the things others say and do would impact you but it's how you respond to what is said and done that makes all the difference."
I asked him to imagine a leaf floating down the river.  Softly and smoothly the current carries the leaf along until it encounters a rock that is jutting out from beneath the water.  The leaf, on it's gentle journey, makes contact with the rock but merely spins around it or bumps off of it and glides along, continuing on down the river.  If we can approach the impact of others actions and words like this leaf and simply experience the impact, not be stopped or hung up by it, but to absorb it and keep on moving how much gentler would life seem.
Assimilate by definition is to "learn something so that is fully understood and can be used".
For instance, take the words and deeds of others that could otherwise offend and emotionally wound a person and instead approach these things in an objective way, considering if there is any truth to it, using that truth for growth and leaving behind the non useful and hurtful.  What a gentle journey that would be.
I, of course, (if you know me at all you already know this) have not mastered assimilation of words and deed otherwise hurtful or offensive for the benefit of knowledge and growth.  I'm a fairly sensitive person and in a perfect world would instead be that fair leaf floating along, experiencing the impact of others yet not being hung up by their words or deeds.
It is something to consider, and is also attainable at some level, in my opinion, otherwise I would have never suggested it to my client.  The idea did seem to resonate with him and it made sense to him to use the idea of assimilation" over the term "get over it".
And so as I continue to consider this life by still waters, I am struck by how this idea that was presented to a client who came to me for insight will actually in time change the way I experience others and will contribute to the gentleness that I seek for my own journey.

Chocolate is a Food Group

Well, I've done it, and it isn't pretty…not only because I'm not an artist but because of what I've discovered I'm eating.  I had to put chocolate as it's own specific food group (you always knew it was a food group anyway!) because of how often I eat it.  And to be honest, I could have left "sweets" as it's own category as well on an almost daily basis.  I told you it was "yikes", didn't I?  

I can't say that I was really shocked when I discovered these things about my eating habits, but as I am about to post them for the world to see I will say I am a little shy about it.  Maybe it's the reminder of the pledge of full disclosure I've taken or the mere fact that is startling to see my diet drawn up in such a way that makes this post so uncomfortable.

Post script:  This blog post was started about 4 days ago when I came down with the flu and bronchitis.  Since getting sick my diet has consisted of soup, tea, water and toast with butter and homemade grape jam.  There has been some ice cream (for medicinal purposes-coats the throat, you know), and yes, the occasional piece of dark chocolate (thank God it wasn't the stomach flu!).

I look forward to continuing this journey now that I am well and have the energy to do so!

Let's Talk Food Pyramids

I found a food pyramid that I've been studying for the past few days.  I'm also working on my personal food pyramid.  I thought it would be interesting to put the food pyramid that I'm working toward following and the food pyramid that depicts my current eating habits side by side to see how they compare.  (Yikes!)

The truth about what I'm eating now:

Daily:  breads and pasta, fruits (most days), "dairy" may not be the same as "cheese and yogurt" because I usually have an egg and milk every day, and sweets.

A Few Times a Week: beans and nuts, vegetables, poultry, red meat

A Few Times a Month: Fish (I try anyway).

I'll draw that up and put it side by side with this pyramid.  Doesn't seem like I'm too far off really.  Cut down on the sweets and red meat and increase the vegetables and I should be doing pretty well.

Today, I did pretty well.  No fast food, no cupcakes, no red meat.  

I do believe that simply thinking about these things has already helped me in subtle ways.  For instance, I was standing in line at the grocery store this evening.  On the shelf next to me was a box of butter finger peanut butter cups.  Seeing that beautiful ButterFinger orange I instinctively put one of the packages no the counter.  But then something happened.  My mind kicked in and said, "Sarah, does that really sound good?"  The answer was no.  

Then the next question,"are you even hungry?"  Not necessarily, was the answer.  

And then, "why are you getting that?"  I didn't have a good response and so I put the candy back.  

It was soon after I began to consider the food pyramid once again and to remind myself of the minor role sweets are supposed to play in a person's diet.  

This is a sign of gradual change and I'm feeling encouraged!  

My goal tomorrow is to avoid eating sweets.  Now I'm not including mints into this category because I find that if I'm trying to avoid over-eating then it's best if I can at least have something for oral occupation such as gum or mints.  I'll let you know how I do! 

The Food Experience

Two banana cupcakes with cream cheese frosting.
Just thought I would get my down-fall for the day out of the way.  Full disclosure.  I've been assured by a friend and coworker that banana cupcakes are probably NOT on the Mediterranean Diet.  And despite the fact that the frosting was indeed Mediterranean blue in color, color has nothing to do with it!  So, as I fought the urge to fill my face all day long I began to wonder what it was that was driving me to eat.
I teach relaxation skills.  When I give a presentation I like to teach my listeners how to eat experientially, as an example of living in the moment.  I pass out mints and chocolate so that they may choose whichever would give them the most pleasure, then ask them to hold the wrapped candy in their hands.  I ask them to consider the wrapper and it's contents.  How does it feel?  What color is it or shape?  Can the chocolate or mint be smelled through the wrapper?  After contemplating these things it's time to unwrap.  Slowly unwrapping the candy to listen to the crinkle of the package, feeling it crumple beneath and between fingers, breathing in the released scent of the candy.  And finally, with eyes closed and another whiff of the sweet treat, into the mouth.  No chewing, just sucking up the sugary goodness.  For the chocolate lovers the creamy milk chocolate melting away creates a smooth sensation.  For the mint lovers the sugar dissolves into buttery goodness and leaves the airways feeling clean and clear.
Experiential eating (that's what I call it anyway).  In other words it's taking the time to experience, with all of your senses, what you're putting into your mouth.  Grabbing something at the drive thru and eating as the gps shouts out directions in between On Point and the Diane Rehm show on the radio while you almost run a red light and push the button so the wipers clean your windshield, is not the way to experience your food.  However, I would imagine this is how most of the working-class spend at least one meal of their day if not more.
The Mediterranean tradition, as read in The Everything Mediterranean Cookbook by Connie Diekman and Sam Satiropoulos, is to enjoy a long mid-day meal with family and friends.  It is a meal shared at a slow pace.  It sounds delightful and relaxing.  A chance to loosen the shoulders and breathe deeply in the midst of what would otherwise be a stressful day.  While this may not be realistic in our American culture of the 9-5 workday, there are principals that could most certainly be incorporated into this US lifestyle.
So, during the rush and bustle of a long work day what did I choose to eat?  Well, among other things, two banana cupcakes with Mediterranean-blue cream cheese frosting.  I did snack on my almonds.  Victory!  Also, I used plenty of evoo (Extra Virgin Olive Oil) and garlic on pasta with spinach and tomato for lunch.  I did a good job on the "oil" front today it seems.
I did and do want this experiment to bring about gradual change (thats why I hesitate to call what I'm working on here a "diet").  As with any positive change or creation of a habit it takes practice and time. That being said I am choosing grace and patience for myself today.  Tomorrow I will not consume two cupcakes and I will strive to experience the food that I eat, that is my plan.

Measures

I decided today that if I am to make this a legitimate experiment I need something to measure.  It's humorous for me to think that I am conducting "research" of my own free will.  I've talked myself out of a doctorate degree so many times because I know it would mean conducting experiments/research/analysis and taking statistics.  While I'm not interested in taking any such classes, I'm quite happy to be conducting this experiment!  Now that I've talked that through, on with the measuring.

As for my physical self, I am a 40 year old woman.  5' 3" and today after lunch with boots on I weighed 140 pounds.  Full disclosure here.  I trust all my friends and readers to use this knowledge for good and not for evil.  I am 4 months postpartum and slowly looking for ways to increase my physical activity, that is other than the activity required in raising 4 boys ages 4 and under and working 2 part time jobs.  At this time, however, those activities are about all that I participate in.  Our family has recently opened a membership at the local YMCA.  In the last three weeks I believe I have been there 3 times.

Because this Mediterranean experiment is not just about weight I thought it would be important to also measure my stress level.  I found this stress test on www.anxietycentre.com.  I've seen it before and was actually looking for this particular one.  I appreciate the all-encompassing nature of the events listed. Those who know me well are aware of the fact that I, in the past, have dealt with anxiety and panic attacks.  That's not to say that when I'm in the midst of something rough these days I don't have to utilize my coping skills to stave off full-fledged anxiety, however, it isn't commonplace as it used to be. 

My panic attacks started around the time when I met and fell head over heels in love with my now-husband in 2005.  Dating him and being engaged long distance was stressful, as was planning a wedding.  My panic attacks intensified and after just one month of marriage the panic attacks were so extreme that they were impacting my ability to work.  It was then that I realized even "good" stress can have negative consequences on a person.  So I increased my study and practice of relaxation and guided imagery at that time.  I also increased prayer and personal time.

It has been probably 4 years since I've had a I'm-going-to-die-I-have-to-pull-the-car-over-I-can't-even-see-straight panic attack (thank the living God!) but anxiety that tempts my body to overreact still lingers and tugs at me from time to time.

Today, according to this chosen measure for stress, my stress level is low to moderate.  I've shared it here with you.  Again, full disclosure, information to be used for good not evil.  

Event	No	Yes
Death of spouse
Divorce
Marital separation, major relationship problems
Jail term
Death of a close family member
Experiencing anxiety conditon or panic attacks
Significant financial problems
Personal injury, illness, or health concern
Recent Marriage (within 6 months)
Fired at work
Marital reconciliation
Retirement
Loss (lost or death) of a family pet
Family member illness
Working on a stressful project
Move (home, new city or country) within 6 months
Pregnancy
Sex difficulties
Gain of new family member
Business change (changes of, or at work)
Significant change in financial state
Death of a close friend
Career change / looking for work
Change in number of arguments with spouse
Mortgage over $100,000
Foreclosure of mortgage or loan
Change in responsibilities at work
Son or daughter leaving home
Trouble with in-laws
Outstanding personal achievement
Spouse begins or stops work
Begin or end school
Medical concern
Change in living conditions
Change of personal habits
Trouble with boss
Change in work hours or conditions
Regularly working more than 10 hours per day
Not taking regular rest breaks or vacations
Change in residence
Change in schools
Christmas (3 months prior to or after)
Trouble with co-worker, friend
Change in recreation
Change church or church activities
Mortgage or loan less than $100,000
Less than 6 hours of sleep on average per night
Change in number of family get-togethers
Change in eating habits
Vacation
Minor violations of the law

My stress score was 111

0 - 150	Low to moderate stress If you have scored in this range, you may want to learn and apply stress management and stress reduction strategies in order to prevent the negative consequences of stress build-up. Since stress is the number one cause of illness and disease, learning and regularly applying stress reducing strategies can help to ensure long-term good health. Persons with a low stress tolerance, however, may find themselves over stressed even with a score of 150. The stress reduction information in the member’s area of this web site may be very helpful to you, in this regard. NOTE: Studies have shown that people with sustained stress in this range have a 0 - 37% chance of developing a serious illness.
=============================================
	Adapted from the "Social Readjustment Rating Scale" by Thomas Holmes and Richard Rahe. This scale was first published in the Journal of Psychosomatic Research. 1967, vol. II p. 214.

The Mediterranean way of eating and way of life is also said to rewind aging.  I'm not sure how to measure that, short of taking pictures of my laugh lines when I'm smiling or of my forehead/brows when I'm pensive or even the back of my hand.  I'll continue to contemplate this.  For now, I believe I'm off to a good start.  

Truth be told, this is a lot of information about me. I am beginning to feel my stress level rising as I contemplate pushing the "publish" button.  I will publish and then I think I'll go do some deep breathing...

By Way of Introduction

I wanted to post this bit in "about me" but couldn't figure out how to do it (yeah, I'm new to blogger) so here it is.  A post entitled "By Way of Introduction"…

It's the new year and I have decided NOT to make any New Year's resolutions.  They are a flash in the pan, so to speak.  I don't want to be fired up about something one day only to watch the idea fizzle and die, a victim to the pull and pressure of every day life.

I have, however, been contemplating how I might change my life for the better.  "For the better" as in for the healthier.  I was diagnosed with diabetes in 2001 the day before my twenty-seventh birthday.  The dietary advise I got from the doctor who diagnosed me, and I quote, was: "Don't eat cake and don't drink."  Solid.

Since this earth-shattering diagnoses (not the first earth-shattering diagnoses I've ever received in my life, but I'm sure there'll be more on that later) i have yet to receive any sound instruction or advice on how/what to eat.  Sure, it would be easy enough to search on Amazon or Barnes and Noble to find a lengthy book on diabetic eating or to grab up a diabetic cook book or literature on the glycemic index to help me out, but, for those things I'd need the time to be able to read the book, become acquainted with the recipes, learn the science behind a glycemic index.

I know, I know.  "If these things are detrimental for healthy living as a diabetic wouldn't you just MAKE time for them?!"  I know I should. And then there's that word "should".

For the same reason I won't make any New Year's resolutions, I won't be starting a "diet", per se.  I just can't bring myself to do it.  I won't make it past the initiation period or the cleansing phase or whatever the first week of any given diet might be entitled.  I won't.  I like dark chocolate.  I like pasta.  I like beer and wine.  I like meat.

I know and understand and have come to accept all of these things about myself but still want to make a change for the sake of my health and longevity.  I'm an "older" mom.  I had my first baby boy when I was thirty-six years old and my most recent/most-likely-last baby boy at age 39.  The fourth of 4 boys, I gave birth to him just two months shy of my 40th birthday.  I need to stick around a while and get these boys growed up!

I'm not sure where it came from but the Mediterranean Diet crossed my path somewhere along the way in the recent past.  Hesitant to read up on a "diet" I was open to learning more about it because there were studies on the way of life of people in the Mediterranean region.  It wasn't just about what to or what not eat.  What I am choosing to call a Mediterranean mindset or Mediterranean living encourages a lifestyle of low stress, strong relationships AND healthy eating. 

I'm listening to an audio book (the only way that the mother of four/wife/medical social worker/mental health counselor can actually "read" a book) called "Everyone Is Beautiful" by Katherine Center.  Okay, first of all let me say I am loving this book.  If I would ever write a book it would be one like this.  She's in my head.  She's quoted me.  She feels my frustration.  In other words, I'm really connecting with the main character, Lainey.  We have a lot in common right down to our husbands names and being the mother of boys to being near the same age and post-child bearing wondering not only where our bodies have gone but our selves.  In the midst of this wondering Lainey does something that has helped me to determine my next step toward living more healthily, she joins a gym.  She started with one hour one day and just worked her way up.  Hearing this fictional mom take such a realistic step to live healthier kicked my curiosity about the Mediterranean Diet into high gear.  It made sense to start small.  So this is me, starting.

Here's what I know about Mediterranean eating and living thus far:

   1)  They eat in season

   2)  Their big meal is during the day

   3)  It's about taking time to experience the smells, flavors and textures about what's being eaten

   4)  Emphasis is on relationships-who you're sharing the meal with

   5)  There will usually be wine

Those are 5 things I can certainly live with!  The trick now is to figure out how to incorporate those practices or to adapt at least the philosophy into my life and the life of my family.  

I read today that the Mediterranean way of eating can reduce the risk of many diseases including two of which I am personally acquainted: diabetes and cancer, it can reduce and even rewind the signs of aging and helps one maintain a healthy weight.  Eating typically includes a lot of olive oil, nuts, pasta as well as fresh fruits and vegetables.

While this blog will not strictly be a blog about diet, it's more for recording my journey in hopes of encouraging and inspiring others to take baby steps to healthier living in all areas of life, I will be sharing what I eat and any recipes that are worth passing on.  Tonight I made fettuccine in evoo (extra virgin olive oil-supposedly the best for you) with sea salt, tomatoes, spinach, black olives and finely grated parmesan cheese.  It was delightful.  I capped it off with a Blue Moon and orange slice.  (I've also read that daily 2 glasses of wine or sometimes substituted with beer is common in the Mediterranean diet, so I went with it).  My evening snack was sea salt almonds and dark chocolate chips.  Very satisfying overall.

As far as physical activity is concerned I have not been to the gym in about a week.  We have a family membership at the YMCA near us and I do not have a set time that is mine to go to the gym.  Due to physical restrictions (left knee replacement, cancer history, more on that later) I tend to use the pool primarily.  While it's nice to have a pool to be able to use so near by it is also very time consuming.  I take one of the four boys with me typically to help get them acquainted with water and then they watch as I do my exercises in the water.  I figure walking laps in the pool as I hold them up and encourage them to "kick, kick, kick" provides some form of exercise for me.  

In "The Everything Mediterranean Diet Book" by Connie Diekman, Connie sites that for physical activity those living in the Mediterranean region are typically active in their gardens and they walk or ride bikes both for pleasure and for transportation.  Since it is unrealistic for me to walk or ride a bike to where I need to go (I don't own a bike first off) and I don't have a garden (tried it once, don't ask) I will work in increased physical activity to this new lifestyle/mindset that I'm developing here and will document what i come up with that is realistic to my situation.

At the risk of being too "defined" I would like to list some of my intentions as I begin this journey:

-This blog is for me.  It's a record of my journey toward healthier living shared to encourage and inspire others.

-I will read more about the Mediterranean way of eating and incorporate as many healthy habits as I can with the understanding that these things will be introduced to my diet in a gradual manner.

-Stress reduction/management will be one of the central areas of investigation.  How do they manage in the Mediterranean region and what can I learn from them?  What practices can I apply to my own life?

-Discover the religious beliefs and practices of those living in the Mediterranean region and how that impacts their health.

-Find creative ways to increase physical activity (probably starting with using my membership at the Y!)

I would appreciate any insight, feedback, recommendations, etc from my friends, family and future friends who might read this in regards to Mediterranean eating and living.  I look forward to sharing my experience as I take my first steps toward becoming healthier by way of the Mediterranean path!

Life by Still Waters…discovery

It came to me in session with one of my clients the other night, this concept of life "by still waters".

This client was talking about his struggle with wanting to always know the right thing to do, or the thing that God would want him to do.  As he spoke, the language he used about being "led" by God invoked a vision of a dog being led around on a leash.

I told him so. 

As I considered what I knew of this client and his faith journey, the God he has spoken about in previous sessions, I immediately thought about the 23rd Psalm.  

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not be in want.  He makes me to lie down in green pastures.  He leads me beside still waters.  He restores my soul."

While I've never been to a pasture to watch a shepherd lead his sheep I've watched enough tv to have seen a shepherd in action with his sheep.  No leash.  

"His rod and his staff they comfort me."

A shepherd leads with a staff, walking behind or beside his flock, gently prodding (if my television sources are accurate).  If the sheep stray off the path, their shepherd makes them aware with a tap of the staff and sets them aright.

I could see the Good Shepherd leading His sheep, lovingly and with great care walking beside and behind my client, this little lamb.  Leading with a gentle hand.  No leash.

I relayed these thoughts to my client.
In that moment he was speechless.  Once he gathered his thoughts, his words came to him and he told me he would never think of this subject the same again.  And I never will either.
It's so peaceful and comforting to think of God Himself behind me, beside me, the Shepherd who will not allow me to stray, falter or fall.  He would place Himself between me and danger and will never leave me to my own devices.

Going forward, with this new understanding, I hope to illustrate how "on the edge" my life can be sometimes and how the grace of The Good Shepherd keeps me and holds me and the ones I love together.