Weighty Matters

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Cheap Shots

I went to see the movie Magic Mike over the weekend.  I’ll cop to being shallow enough to enjoy spending some time looking at sexy men with great physiques showing off their mostly naked bodies.

Anyway, I wasn’t expecting a movie with a deep, involved storyline, so I was pleasantly surprised that it had more depth than I expected.  I was having a pleasant enough time at the theater until somewhere in the middle.   One of the actors portraying male strippers is Joe Manganiello, who also places Alcide on True Blood, which is one of my favorite shows.   I’ve seen enough of his body on TB to know it’s a prime one.  He’s 6’5″, over 200 pounds, and clearly very strong.  In True Blood and in this movie, he’s done his fair share of hoisting women up in his arms.  In fact, in a recent TB episode, he not only hoisted Sookie so that her legs were wrapped around his waist, but he walked up a flight of stairs carrying her in that position.

In Magic Mike, after showing various dancers pick up, carry and otherwise demonstrate that they were obviously strong enough to tote slender women, the movie’s action showed a woman who was carrying a few extra pounds being escorted to the stage.

Two guys walked her up onto the stage to Manganiello’s character.     He picked her up.  She wrapped her legs around his waist.  He held her there with his hands under her butt and then he flinched like he’d strained his lower back.  He put her down and walked stiffly from the stage, not finishing his act.  That left the poor woman up on stage, looking around awkwardly and embarrassed in front of the crowd.

I’m not great at assessing someone else’s weight, but she was far from obese.  I’m pretty sure that she weighed less than 200 pounds.  Whatever the case, I’d bet real money that Joe Manganiello bench presses more than her weight on a regular basis.

This scene was completely unnecessary and totally manufactured to make people laugh — at the chubby woman.  Gotta tell you, perhaps I was the only woman in the audience who got pissed off by the scene, but not a single woman in that theater laughed.

This kind of thing is nothing new.  Maybe there aren’t a lot of “big hunk throws out back lifting chunky woman” scenes, but I’m sure we all remember numerous scenes throughout television shows and movies where people who were slightly, or a lot, overweight were fodder for ridicule.  They became the brunt of jokes.

Am I oversensitive to this topic?  I’m sure that I am, but that doesn’t change the facts.  Making fun of overweight people is mean.  It’s also unnecessary.  Surely any writer or filmmaker can dig deeper to create humor.  They don’t need to take cheap shots.

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Clear Thinking

Different friends have given me much to think about this week.  Skye discussed how we tell the stories of our lives and how we view ourselves in those stories.  Tracey got me pondering about all the times I’ve lost weight in the past only to eventually backslide  and put it all — and more — back on.  I’m not sure if I set that pattern simply because I have a disease called compulsive overeating or whether I self-sabotage or have some other unclear reason.

I’m going to need to deeply ponder these things for a while.  I don’t have answers yet.  Why then, you might ask, did I title this post Clear Thinking?  That I  can answer.   When I’m deep in the disease of compulsive overeating and binging like crazy, it’s a struggle to think clearly about anything.  The food and the behavior muddle my mind.  They create so many negative feelings and thoughts, that navigating my way through the mental sludge to reach any clarity is nearly impossible.

Now that my head and heart aren’t confuzzled by overeating, I’m largely free of diseased thinking.  Sure, I occasionally slip back, but there’s a world of difference between then and now.   It’s like I polished up my thought process and can view things as they are, unaltered by the smears and cloudiness caused by overeating behavior.

It’s fabulous to be able to think clearly.  Clear thinking leads to greater awareness and, also, clear action.   I’m sure this is why I’ve been able to write so much here on the blog.

Hopefully, as I continue to make progress, I’ll be able to delve even deeper into my issues.  This will serve me well in the days, weeks, and months ahead.  Believe it or not, but getting thinner doesn’t eradicate every issue.  In fact, it will no doubt uncover ones that I haven’t needed to face in decades.  I’ll need clear thinking even more.

 

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You Don’t Know Until You Try

I didn’t have Tai Chi class this morning so I made plans to try a regular Zumba class at 9 a.m.  You might remember that on Memorial Day I went to Zumba Gold, which is supposed to be a little less intense and geared to the over 50 crowd.   Six weeks ago, I was delighted that I managed to keep up with the quick pace and maintain the movement for the full hour.  I’d hoped that the place I went to would soon add some ZG classes in the evenings so that I could go a couple of times a week.

That hasn’t been able to happen yet.  I’ve been feeling the need to step up my exercise routine.  Yes, I’ve been as diligent as possible with my water exercises, as well as doing my in-home DVDs.  However, I still feel like I haven’t progressed as far as I should with the exercise part of my recovery plan.  I decided to check out the regular intensity Zumba.   After all, what was the worst that could happen?  I flail around in back out of synch but keep moving?  Well, I guess that the worse that could happen is that I pass out and die, but why be negative?

I suited up in comfy shorts and picked a Bruce Springsteen t-shirt to wear for inspiration.  I figure if the Boss can rock out a full concert for three hours at age 62, I could last an hour mixing dancing and exercise.  I slipped on my new sneakers, grabbed a bottle a water and headed out.

They had a full turn out this morning.   Several women I know arrived for the class and warmly welcomed me.  Pretty much all of them gave me the same advice.  “Even if you mess up the steps, just keep moving.  Just keep moving.”

That’s what I did.  Through mambos and traveling steps, squats, lunges, kicks and all of the rest, I just kept moving.  To my complete surprise, I actually kept up with the class through all of the songs. Did I do every step and move perfectly?  Oh heck no, but I kept moving with a high level of energy.   I boosted my heart rate and worked up a sweat with the best of them.

By the time the hour was over, my body knew it had worked.  I felt terrific!  I’ve already decided to go again on Tuesday after work for another class.   Looking at their schedule, I know I can make a class on Tuesdays and alternate Thursdays.   This schedule will go a long way toward advancing my overall exercise commitment.   The cardio routine will do great things for my heart.  Burning off calories is an added benefit.

I could have waited to see if they scheduled an evening Gold class.  I could have delayed until I’ve lost even more weight.  I’m glad that I went in with the attitude that I’d give it a shot and see what happened.  This was far more positive than letting fear of failure keep me stuck.   Successfully working out in a regular Zumba class provided a terrific boost and I’d never have known I could do it, had I not tried!

 

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Additional Realizations

It’s been a great week where I’m aware of myself in good, not negative ways. I had a social function to attend earlier this evening. A few weeks ago when doing one of my closet purges, I found a dress that I loved years ago. I haven’t worn it in more years than I can remember because it was so tight that the line of buttons down the front gapped open and the material stretched across my boobs like someone wrapping an Egyptian mummy. The fabric is a deep purple batik which, given that I live in the Keys, is always in style. It totally didn’t matter that the dress is 10 years old. It was still in style. Anyway, when I found it in the closet, I looked at the size tag and figured I might as well try it on.

It not only fit, it looked great I looked great in it! It has a scoop neckline and, for the first time I noticed that my collar bones are beginning to show! I was so excited to wear this dress tonight that I didn’t even mind that I needed to iron it first. (Ironing is not a household chore that I adore.) To go with the dress, I pulled out a pair of shoes with a wedge heel. A dress and shoes that aren’t flip-flops? That practically constituted semi-formal wear for me.

Off I went to the function where I’d do a fair amount of networking. I knew I’d see people I already know but expected there to be several whom I’d never met. I’m usually comfortable at these kinds of things, but even though I’m good at walking up to strangers, introducing myself and making conversation, in the past I always had to gag the ugly voice in my head first.

That voice used to harangue me about being the biggest person in the room. It used to whisper that the other people who watched me arrive were all thinking, “Good God, that woman is huge! How does someone let themselves get that big?” The voice lectured me about what I chose to eat at these things too, and told me that everyone was watching to see how much food I put on my plate.

Let me tell you, it’s amazing that I ever went anywhere with that voice bitching at me in my own psyche. Somehow I learned to do what I wanted or needed to in spite of the voice.

Tonight, it was so much fun to stroll from the car, smoothly and gracefully, feeling really good about my progress. I walked into the room confident that I projected all the positive vibes glowing inside.

Obviously I wasn’t the smallest attendee in the room, but I wasn’t the only person with some size. It didn’t matter. I didn’t feel judged or unduly assessed and I sure as hell didn’t judge myself. I just let myself enjoy the function, network as I needed, and have a good, relaxed time.

On this evening, I only heard nice things — from the people around me and from my own psyche. It’s good to know that I can change not only my body — my physical frame — but also my internal framework. I’m not only seeing the changes, I’m internalizing them. That’s a great realization for me to celebrate.

Progress update: I broke through the stall. As of this morning I have lost 96 pounds! Four more pounds to reach the 100 pound mark. At that point, I’ll get another photo taken to post. Woot!

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It’s Fitting.

I’ve mentioned before that being extremely overweight causes one to be hyperaware of size and surroundings.  For years, I didn’t sit in a chair without first mentally assessing whether it would bear my weight.  In restaurants or large conference halls where tables and chairs are often close together, I’d worry that there wouldn’t be enough room for me to walk between tables without bumping into people or having to ask someone to pull themselves closer to their own tables.

I could list a dozen other examples.  Let me tell you, this constant state of hyperawareness of my size created a lot of stress and tension.

I’m still a larger woman, but I’m a lot less large than I used to be.  I wish I’d lost as much of the hyperawareness, but it’s still present.  However, I’m retraining myself one circumstance at a time.   Whenever I encounter a situation where my body fits better, I take the time to really acknowledge that it’s happened.  I note how it feels.  Doing this not only reduces fear and tension, it also creates smiles and happiness.

When I first went out on my boat, I’d already lost a good chunk of weight.  I could definitely feel the difference just in swinging my leg over the gunwhale.  Then I sat in my captain’s seat and looked at how much more space existed between my stomach and the steering wheel.

The other night while sat at the bar (on a high stool that I was able to much more easily boost myself up on) with my friends, the rest of the restaurant filled up.  When we turned to leave, I had a moment of sharp concern that there wouldn’t be enough room in between the different parties for me to navigate gracefully through the room.  I paused and studied the open space, then had to deliberately remind myself that I am physically smaller than I was months ago.  Maybe at my largest weight I would have had difficulty.   Now, even if some of the spaces were a little tight, they weren’t too tight for me to glide through.

Earlier this evening I drove to a local restaurant to meet friends.  Most of the parking spaces in the lot were already filled except for one between a small sedan and a larger truck.  I figured out that if I pulled in slowly and adjusted, I could fit my SUV in that space, but I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to then open my car door wide enough to exit without having to squeeeeeeeze out.  Six months ago, it would have been a very tight fit and I don’t think I would have succeeded.  Tonight it was still a tight fit, but my body didn’t rub against any part of my car as I got out.  I walked out smiling.

Each one of these examples stands as an NSV.  They also help me rewire my thought patterns.  Each time I fit into or through a smaller space, or sit in a different chair and know that it’s strong enough to hold me, I make a little more progress retraining my perception of my own size.  That, my friends, is truly fitting.

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Recognizing Strength from Weakness

Almost 20 years ago, I was very involved in OA.  I worked a strong program with three or four meetings a week.  I abstained from compulsive overeating and binging for months at a time.  Without following a popular diet, I dropped 50 or more pounds.

Even more than working the 12 steps, I believed in them.  They lived in me and provided an excellent guideline for my daily choices.  In those days, I honestly believed that I could and would achieve long term success and remake my life into something far healthier physically, emotionally and mentally.

Not that maintaining abstinence is ever easy, but a program friend at the time struggled constantly and despite hard work and effort, never achieved abstinence for any significant amount of time.  I remember clearly the day she told me she was looking into having gastric bypass surgery.  I was dismayed!  I feared for her and, even more, felt badly that it seemed like she was giving up on herself.

A few years later, another friend made the same decision.  I had a pretty similar reaction.

I’ve said before that I resisted even considering having surgery myself for years and years.  Right now I can’t help but wonder how much of that was legitimate fear and how much was me comfortably living in denial.    I was talking to a friend tonight who lives the struggle daily with food and overeating.  She understands all the issues.  I shared with her that a year ago, I was broken down and as low as I’ve ever been about my obesity.   Even last year when I had my defining moment and decided to investigate bariatric surgery for myself, I felt like the moment came from weakness.  I don’t have word-for-word memory of what my friend said, but the gist was that it’s time to think about this choice differently.

She’s right.

It’s only in hindsight that I see the difference.  Making the decision, commiting to the plan of action, and all the many things that come with that action plan, aren’t acts of weakness, they’re examples of strength.   It’s kind of funny that it’s taken so long for me to truly internalize this realization.  Once I made the decision and started the process of consulting with the surgeon, doing all of the evaluations, talking to people about it, I never felt weak.  I felt stronger and rejuvenated.  The positive action changed everything.   The changes still happen on an almost daily basis.

To be honest, whenever I’ve been with someone suffering a different disease, I had reacted differently than I did with my program friends.  When my mother’s relapse took her so far down that she couldn’t get back to sobriety without going to rehab, I told her she was making a strong choice for her own well being.  I dated a man with bi-polar disorder.  He had a hard time accepting that he needed professional treatment and that the therapist and team were allies to his recovery.  I would never, ever have thought that Mom or my ex seeking treatment indicated that they were weak.

With my friends, however,  I reacted out of my own fears.  I didn’t understand that they weren’t “giving in” or caving.  They were choosing what they needed.  Their choices took guts.   I wish I could go back and contact those friends from long ago. I owe them amends.  I don’t know how to reach them, unfortunately.

At least for today I can acknowledge that I was wrong and that I definitely see things differently now.  I’m really glad that I’m acknowledging the strength in myself, too.

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Making a Choice is a Power Move

I owe the title of this blog to Skye.  She said it first in her comment on yesterday’s blog.   Making a choice is a power move.  I love this and the strength inherent in its simple truth.

When I think of the worst times of compulsive overeating and binging, I remember feeling completely out of control and helpless to stop.  I know that, at the heart of things, it was my choice to pick up food and shove it into my mouth, but it didn’t feel like it.  The disease seemed much more powerful.

The times that I successfully avoided over eating required conscious choice too, and those were the power moves.  At least, they were the moves when I felt powerful, versus overpowered by the compulsion.

I’m coming up on a year from when I made the decision to pursue weight loss surgery.  That decision came after a couple of years of doing nothing proactive to help my health.  Again, somewhere along the way I chose to do nothing.  This all leads me to believe that there are passive choices and active choices.

I prefer the active.  Those are the ones that feel like they restore positive power to me and get or keep me moving in the right direction.   Passive acts, letting things roll over me while I live in an unhealthy state of mind, body and spirit, suck away power and light.

Today, I lived within the power of my ability to make positive choices.  I chose to plan my meals and then chose to consume them as planned.  I chose to change into a bathing suit and work out in the pool after work.  I chose to eat a healthy snack instead of something that would fill me with empty calories of no real nutritional value.

We have a great corporate coach at work.  She says that every single day we can make a conscious choice about our attitude and approach to our lives.  She suggest we make that choice before our feet hit the floor.  Somedays, it’s hard to reach for the great attitude, particularly if you’re in the midst of challenging times on any level.  On those days, even if we aren’t feeling it, I think it’s acceptable to “fake it until we make it”.  We can act as if the day is going to shine like a perfectly cut, polished diamond.  We can make that choice.

Making a choice is a power move.  Thanks for that, Skye!

Tonight I feel pretty damn powerful.

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Shaking Up the Body

My weight loss stalled for a couple of weeks.  As much as I know to expect these stalls occasionally, I’m only human.  I respond better to steady progress and get frustrated when my body doesn’t fall in with my plans.   Honestly, it isn’t like my body can say, “Sorry, Mary.  I’ll try to do better.”  Over the weekend I made the choice to stop worrying and getting annoyed with myself.  I was pretty active with all of the lifting of planters and big bag of potting soil, water exercise, walking around and shopping, etc.  I also decided that eating a few more carbs than usual wouldn’t torpedo my entire effort.  Nor would that glass of fresh white sangria at dinner on Saturday night or the truly delicious piece of Dove chocolate I allowed myself yesterday.

These little variations apparently pleased my body.  The weight is coming off again.  I’m trying not to obsess with the scale numbers, but I will probably check a little more often because the positive reinforcement of seeing steady loss again after a stall actually helps.

There’s something even more significant at play here that I need to acknowledge.  It’s important for me to note mental and emotional progress in my day to day recovery effort.  The fact that I can allow myself these little variations here and there and then go right back to the regular food plan is huge.  In the past, if I veered off of one of the multiple restrictive diets I followed, it could signal the end of whatever success I’d had to that point.  The smallest slip could set off a chain reaction and send me right back to full blown overeating and bingeing.

I’m really studying the difference between my experience now and past events.   Believe me the difference is significant.  That I can make a conscious choice when to eat “off plan” and when to get back on it tells me that for today my recovery from compulsive eating is strong and in good shape.  It’s all about actually being conscious and not blindly grabbing for food.  I feel really good about this tonight, but I’m also far from being complacent.  I’ll remain vigilant about my behavior around food at the same time that I celebrate the successes.

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Fun Day, Sunday & Satisfaction

Yesterday I took my own advice and really celebrated my own happiness.  For me, this took the form of doing things that I enjoy.  It greatly pleased me to go to Tai Chi class in the morning and then spend an hour filling my planters with flowers.  I totally love that bright teacup design.  I can’t wait for the second planter to arrive.

After planting yesterday, I jumped into the pool for some exercise and also pool cleaning.  My little pool makes me happy.  I love being able to go in to exercise or relax whenever I want.  After that activity, I showered and headed down to Key West (about an hour away) for a little shopping.   You know those folks who find it recreational and fun to browse in malls for hours on end?  I’m not one of them.  I really have to be in the mood and have specific goals.  Yesterday,  I wanted to visit Pier One in search of a small table for the porch.   I also wanted to shop a store that had a good selection of sneakers/walking shoes.

The last couple of times that I’ve purchased sneakers online, I haven’t been happy.  I wear a 10 EE and even when the manufacturer specifies that they do wide-widths, the womens’ styles end up crowding my toes.  It is very difficult to walk any distance or do any extended activity if your toenails hurt!  There isn’t much difference in style between the footwear made for men or women, so I thought it was a good idea to visit an actual store and try on different pairs before buying.  The salesperson was very helpful, although he really wanted me to at least try the electric day-glo yellow walking shoes.  He finally accepted that I wasn’t, in his words, “feeling them” and brought me a few other styles.  I walked around the store in each pair before finally settling.  Mission accomplished!

Traveling on to Pier One in the next shopping plaza down the road, I spotted a charming, colorful, sort of funky woven table with a large woven daisy in the center.  The decorating scheme for my porch has swiftly become eclectic.  Nothing matches in style or color, but somehow it’s all going to work — from the eggplant finish of the plantation-style chair and ottoman to the white Adirondack style rocker to the (once it finally arrives) off-white wicker loveseat with the midnight blue cushions.  All of these, remember, sit on a porch recently painted deep blue in contrast to the lavender of the house itself with the bright white columns and railing.   If all of the elements together don’t qualify for a layout feature in Outdoor Living Designs Magazine, I don’t care.  The pieces are comfortable and they make me happy.

While in Pier One, I wandered around just for fun.  They really stock a lot of whimsical items.   A set of china measuring cups caught my eye.  I don’t need them for cooking, but I immediately thought that they would make great, small cups for me to eat from.  I can measure my portion and serve myself in the same piece!  Next to them on the shelf sat an adorable deep purple-blue berry colander.  When I buy berries, I don’t immediately wash the entire container.  I rinse what I want as I’m ready to eat them, so having a smaller colander, rather than always pulling out one of my bigger ones is a perfect idea.  Did I absolutely need this thing?  No, but between the cuteness, color and potential functionality it made me smile, so I bought that too.

Just look at these things.  Who could resist?

A little while ago, I spooned low fat yogurt into the 1/3 cup measure and sliced up the berries for a snack.   I know it would have tasted just as good in a plain white ramekin, but my overall pleasure was increased because it looked so darn pretty in the little flower bowl.

After I finished shopping, I met up with a friend who lives in Key West.  We then picked up another friend who’d just flown in.  My friend Em has heard me speak about wanting to find restaurants that serve small portions of really flavorful food.  She suggested we go to dinner at a place in town that serves a Tapas-style menu.  My friends, this experience was so terrific, I now fervently wish someone would open a similar place in my town.  The menu offerings were amazing!  Three or four soups and several salads, which the server said were large so one was usually shared by a party.  Then they had at least 15 cold tapas offerings including an exotic cheese platter, hummus plate, different veggies and many other things.  The hot tapas selection was even greater.  I didn’t count the choices, but there were at least 20, maybe 25, representing many different cuisines.

Everything sounded absolutely delicious and it took awhile for me to narrow it down.  I finally decided on two, knowing that I wouldn’t finish them, but craving the opportunity to try a variety.  For my first plate, I chose dates stuffed with goat cheese, wrapped in proscuitto.  Pardon me while I sound like a Food Network chef, but the crisp saltiness of the proscuitto paired with the chewy sweetness of the date and the creamy tang of the melting goat cheese combined for a small, flavorful bite of joy.  There were six on the plate, of which I ate three.  For my second choice, I opted for herb crusted beef tenderloin with a topping of melted bleu cheese.  Picture a small round filet mignon sliced crosswise into thirds  and you’ll have an idea of the portion size.  It was a tender, perfect medium-rare serving with delicate herbs and just enough bleu cheese for extra flavor depth.  I savored the three bites that I ate after the three dates.  I had a bite of my friend’s croquetta and was full.   The only thing better than that tapas meal was knowing that I could take home the rest of the meat and dates to enjoy a second time!

My friends and I chatted, laughed and thoroughly savored our meal.  It was such an enjoyable evening.  I found myself smiling about it for most of my ride home.

After a leisurely morning sitting on the porch with a cup of tea, the Sunday newspaper and my dogs, I ventured out to do my food shopping for the next few days.  I’m trying a recipe in the slow cooker with chicken breasts, low cal honey barbeque sauce and fresh pineapple.   I’ve noticed that if I eat chicken, it has to be really, really moist or I have problems.  My friend told me about this dish and swears that the chicken is fall-apart tender, so we’ll see.   On my way to the supermarket, I stopped by Home Depot for two bright planters for my gardenia bush and my small Meyer Lemon tree.  Yes, more color for the porch! I finished repotting a short time ago.

It’s the middle of the afternoon and I’ve completed the things I really wanted to do on my Sunday.  The Phillies are playing the Braves and TBS is carrying the game, so I have a chance to see my Phils in action.  (They’re having a horrible year, but I still love being able to watch a game.)  I’m going to pick up my sequinning, settle into the recliner and watch the rest of the game.   It will be one more way to make myself happy on what has, so far, been a really terrific weekend.

 

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Obsessing Over What’s Right

I went to a massage therapist/intuitive healer yesterday.  I clench my jaw and grind my teeth at night and am supposed to wear a night guard.  I usually don’t mind it except that for the last several months I’ve had to use the CPAP machine at night.  Even though the mask for that is relatively small, wearing the mask and the night guard bothers me.  So, I stopped wearing the guard which isn’t good for my  mouth and teeth.  *le sigh*

Hopefully when the pulmonologist sees how much weight I’ve lost at my followup appointment in August he’ll schedule another sleep study and we’ll find out that I no longer need the CPAP.  (Maybe I’m getting my hopes up too soon but it’s possible!)  Until then, I need to do something about the clenched jaw.  The dental hygenist suggested I see a massage therapist, so I did.  The woman is amazing.  Before she does any work, she does hands on reading of energy, muscles, etc.  She then proceeded to work on my head, neck and mouth for an hour.  I could feel tight muscles loosen up and go soft.  She also suggested that I stick my tongue between my teeth and lips when I go to sleep and see if that prevents my jaw from clamping down.

During the treatment she asked me what I obsess over before I go to sleep that results in the tension.   Most nights I don’t.  Unlike some rougher times in my life, I don’t have chronic, ever lingering anxiety.  I get tense over some situations.  If something upsetting or annoying happened during the day I might still focus on that with repetitive thought or replay conversations in my mind.  The massage therapist and I both observed how quickly we go to what might be wrong and look for the negative.

I observed that it would be great if we more often obsessed over what’s right.   I’ve been obsessing over this idea ever since. 🙂

I have a happy life.  I recognize and appreciate this every day and don’t go around waiting for the sky to fall or something else to happen to mess up things and take away my happiness.  However, today I’m musing over whether I should stop acting like happiness is commonplace  and do more to celebrate its presence in my life.

Over on Reinventing Fabulous, Sundays are usually given to sharing things that made us happy during the week.  That’s a good start because the exercise helps us connect to those moments or events.

Happiness should not be taken for granted.    I’ve come to believe that it deserves to be nurtured.  Just like dwelling in negativity can breed more of the same, happiness begets more happiness.  I’m going to make it a point to celebrate good things

Today I’m going to experiment with obsessing over what’s right and celebrate my happy life.  It’s already a good day.  I enjoyed Tai Chi class this morning.  The rain clouds have passed and I have several plants in the car ready to be arranged in planters.  I ordered an quirky, adorable planter that’s shaped like a brightly colored teacup.  (I have another teacup planter also on order but it hasn’t arrived yet.)  Just the planter makes me smile and I can’t wait to see it with the flowering plants I bought a short time ago.  I have another planter for the pool deck and a flowering shrub that I’m going to plant beneath some palm trees.  I love flowers!  Right now I have a small arrangement of peachy-pink roses on the table in front of me.  Once I finish planting, I’ll have brightly colored flowers inside and out.  That’s a hit of happy I’ll enjoy day after day.  When I’m done I’ll take pictures and share my happiness here.  That will be another form of celebration.

Enjoy your day, everyone.   Look for what’s right and spend some time obsessing over it.  Celebrate what makes you happy!

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Edited to add pictures.  I wish I’d found a whiskey barrel planter that was a bit taller, but this is still fine.  It will also be easier to move in case of a storm event later this season.  I totally love my funky tea cup planter.  Another one that’s patterned like a French postcard is due today or Monday.  I go outside, look at them and smile.

             

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