Sunday July 25th, converging

Cutdawg looks nothing like this, but I like this pic.

My thoughts of self-judgment are extra-loud today. It's no doubt due to NO exercise this past week + the stress that is car troubles. I have been unable to drive out to Hixson for boot camp as my car started acting up a few weeks ago before it eventually died last Wednesday on my way to work. Being carless in a car-centric world makes life severely more inconvenient and limited. It takes more maneuvering and calculation to carry out day-to-day tasks that, when I'm with car, I never think twice about. I think with the planning and worrying about how I'm going to manage this snafu on my own, I didn't exercise. I certainly could have. It would not have been difficult to fit in a workout, and believe me, I thought about it. I had all the great intentions of getting exercise despite being boot-camp-less, however my great intentions just weren't enough for whatever reason. We all know that thinking about exercising and actually exercising are sadly two different animals.
I find myself feeling sad today. I'm not sure why. One thing that I've noticed about me when I'm judging myself extra-harshly is that I compare myself to people more. Don't get me wrong, I have a habit of doing that even when I'm not feeling down, but it gets worse when I am. I've been poking around on the Internet quite a bit this morning, spending the obligatory time on facebook, catching up on bloggies and -- in the mean time, making all sorts of assumptions about how awesome other peoples' lives are; believing that the bonds other people share with each other are closer, tighter, more special than mine -- using all of that "content" as fodder to Charlie-Brown myself into head-hanging blues and isolation. Shit, I even hovered on the "deactivate" button on facebook, so as to shield myself . . . from myself, essentially. Facebook is clearly benign. It's what I do with it, it's the emotional and mental warfare I exact on myself that I was hoping to end by committing facebookicide. But I know that facebook is clearly not the issue here.

Let me add this: I know that all of these thoughts are unfounded. I know that this is paranoia at its basest/finest. I'm not punishing myself for feeling and thinking these things, because when it comes down to it, they are simply thoughts. They are as "real" as I allow them to be, or as fine and feathery as evaporating smoke. The truth lies in perception and the lesson, the wisdom of these thoughts, lies inside of me. In my body. In my awareness. So it is not with judgment that I am airing my laundry. Rather, it is an invitation to myself to meet my distress with curiosity. I am opening myself to discovering what feeling like shit is really meant to show me about myself, life and other people.

In other news, I've been reading Geneen Roth's book Women, Food and God on and off, which is partially responsible for this curiosity, rather than fear, of my emotions. The book is wondrous. Roth's voice is so warm, cozy, nurturing and earthy. I truly enjoy and identify with her language and it happens to be a bonus that she's writing about one of my favorite things to read about. -- HA! Something funny just occurred to me . . . I'm even ravenous for health and recovery. It's that ravenous appetite that typifies my disease, but it's also the salve. It's the cure for itself! -- I like/am annoyed by the recursive, memoir-feel of the text. I like it, cause I just kinda like shit like that, to be crass. But I am annoyed, cause the Type A in me is like: give me the fucking answer already! How do I do this? Give me steps clearly delineated, bulleted in a list. But my Type A is deeply buried within me, and doesn't surface in every aspect of my life. And obviously living a healthy life is not solving a Rubik's Cube. So, I mostly like the book. It's a light, easy read; although, it's also completely dense and rich, which is why I think I haven't inhaled it. I think I'm giving myself time to digest everything she's feeding me. Reading her book has the distinct feel of sewing seeds. Germination always takes time, patience and perseverance. And water! heheh

At any rate, being that I am leaving for Hamburg, Germany in a little over a month, there's been a lot on my mind. Yes, the car shtuff is annoying, but I trust that I'll get it taken care of. About Hamburg: I've been getting so excited, that words fail me. There aren't really feelings of trepidation for round 2 (I lived in Germany for a year when I was 20 years old). There are the typical oh-shit-I'm-not-ready and d'ah!-do-I-have-all-my-ducks-in-a-row feelings. But nothing like when I was 19-20! Go fig :) It's always hard to leave framily and family, but that's kinda been the name of the game for the past two-three years. I don't have a boyfriend this go round, thank God!! I couldn't possibly be better prepared for this experience. I am confident that the experience will be a wonderful boost for my future-career. Yeah. I'm pretty much read' ta go.

I know I haven't really been writing in the "typical" format, but I don't really care and I doubt anyone who might be reading this bloggidy cares either. I'll keep everyone posted as per, exercise, nutrition and life . . .

Namaste! :)