Shambala

On the road to veganity, I bumped along a little ways with some turkey meat sticks and some chicken tacos.  But my meat and sugar intake is really minimal in the grand scheme of things, actually, with an incredibly liberal dousing of green tea and 10-calorie-FUZE SLENDERIZE.  (I just got some the other day, and decided I kinda like it once in a while…) My snacks have consisted of tortilla chips with salsa and, oh yes, starvation. 

I have had a mega-busy few weeks, (going to work in the early part of the day, and then heading to the storage sheds in the afternoon with large loads bogging down my poor van) and eating has literally fallen to the bottom of the “to-do” list. 

Unfortunately I can’t actually survive with no food, and eventually my hunger returns with a vengeance, attacking me for my neglect.  I actually think that my body rejects animal foods when I have been in starvation mode, and it does NOT reject the raw fruit and veggie foods, or simple starches on my OK list. I find that fascinating.

I have not made progress on implementing a stress-relieving exercise routine, but that’s OK. I have been up and down the stairs with boxes and heavy objects this week.  My waist is thinner and my legs are firmer. (I just moved into an upstairs duplex).  The weather, while pleasant today and last evening, has been pretty much hideous this week – 88 and humid.  Rough time to move. (This weekend will be worse.) So, it looks like swimming will have to be my exercise for a few days.  I am actually one of the laziest swimmers ever.  I get in the pool or the lake, and huddle with my shoulders under, sometimes holding a large fruity beverage sporting an umbrella straw. Somehow, I think the few times I let my eight-year-old daughter carry me from one end of the pool to the other, pretending I am her baby while mesmerized by the fact that she can lift me in the water… somehow I think that is exercise.  And I sip more of my fruity beverage and climb out to let the sun touch me everywhere (someone has to…)

So – although I plan to eat more food, since “no food” is not a healthy diet, I am happy to report that I feel as though I am in control of this.  That’s saying a lot!!!! I have been in control of so very little these days, it would seem...

I am truly feeling empowered that, while I may not be on the road to veganity, I am on the road to Shambala.

That’s a song, you know…

Drinkin' Wine Spo-dee-o-dee-o

Ok.

I was going to be a vegan for the summer.  I got all excited about it.  I planned to come up with a bunch of gluten-free, tasty vegan recipes and share them with my world.  I figured maybe it would help me on my journey to certain slender-ness.

So, while planning out my first day of veganity, I ran through the drive-thru at Taco Bell and grabbed up a couple of chicken tacos in hard shells so I could think about recipes…

This is going to be harder than I once thought. As in, what I once thought a minute ago, I mentally journal-ed as I tore into the poultry flesh. (Actually, just writing the phrase “poultry-flesh” has me ready to re-commit to veganity…)

It reminds me of the times we have ordered the vegan gluten-free pizza and had them throw chicken all over it.  “Are you sure…?” the woman on the other end of the phone asked in dismay.  “Just do it,” we hissed back.

I. Am. Hungry.  I don’t get to eat bread.  It is inconvenient and expensive to keep gluten-free varieties on hand. I should not eat dairy, and so I mostly avoid it since it wreaks havoc in my system, nearly as detrimentally as wheat and gluten.  I guess I wonder what the heck I am supposed to eat.

My friend and I last night devised a plan to drink liquor to get thin.  We both agreed that we are waaaaaay thinner and much more beautiful when we maintain a constant mellow buzz; or not even a mellow one.  We could just plan to be temporarily tipping that bottle back, drinking our meals, absolute animals in our lean curves and sensual prowess.

(That probably won’t work, either.  I have a feeling it won’t anyway.  And the magic-gluten-free brownie-idea is great.  Except that, oh wait, it is a bad idea.  Plus, my friend wants to get a job working for the state…)

Not me.  I don’t want to get a job anywhere.  I just want to sit around and drink wine spo-dee-o-dee-o and eat chocolate… melting off my pounds.

So realistically, I don’t have time to eat much anyway.  Which is probably why I talk about food all the time.  When I write stories, I think of delicious detail regarding the food my characters are eating.  They get to indulge in all the things I really just can’t have. 

And so, it is gluten-free bars from the grocery store, green tea, grapes, tortilla chips with salsa, and bananas.  Almost every day. 

Someone recently told me that humans were never meant to consume corn.  Grr.  I can at least eat corn.  So that’s hogwash.  I quipped back, “Humans were never meant to eat wheat.”  The person looked at me like I was crazy.  I might be a little crazy, but at that moment, I felt I’d won a crucial conversational battle.

All this to say, I am not likely to be vegan in totality.  I am not likely to turn to alcoholism and weed to speed my metabolism.  I am not likely to give up corn.

Instead, I am going to take advantage of the warm weather and do a lot of swimming and walking. 

Although, I really do think that if I stay typsy, I will care less whether or not this is actually working…

Independence Day

"Let Freedom Ring.  Let the white dove sing.  Let the whole world know that today is the day of reckoning..."

Dear Friends,

It has been quite a while since I have written.  Almost 3 months. I have done a few crazy things, been to California and back twice, had three Brazilian sugars (I am addicted), finished an intense job of music writing and playing, started a new job of being a receptionist for a couple of lawyers, and packed up an entire house and put it into storage.

 Yep.  I was told by my landlord at the end of May that he had sold the house I was living in and I needed to move out.  So I started packing up my stuff and sorting through the memories, burning and packing and throwing away.  June 2011 was really hard. It was so hard, in fact, I don't even know what to say.

I finally dealt with so many things regarding my three-year old divorce.  I looked at old cards to and from old people in my life.  I replaced them with new music from new people.  I made a huge burn pile.

I am waiting for the inspection to go through on a house I'm trying to buy, which means I am temporarily displaced.  Meanwhile, I'm dividing my time between two friends' houses.  One friend wants to marry me, and the other, a girl (marrying her is still technically illegal in this state) is trying to be there for me, in spite of the fact that her husband is anxious and jealous of my presence. I can't wait to have my own place again.

I'm in limbo. For real.

It's almost the Fourth of July -- my favorite holiday -- and I am really, truly in LIMBO.

My daughter told me today that she want's to drop fifteen pounds.  (She is adorable, and I don't think she needs to thin out at all, although fifteen pounds would still technically be a healthy weight, so I won't discourage her.)  It made me think -- maybe I will be happier if I drop pounds as well.  I have fought it -- trying to prove that curvy is amazing and cool and healthy and all that.

But the bottom line is that I want to be thin, I guess.

So, here I go.  If I have to literally drink my meals, I am going to work my butt off this summer.  I am going to get the old fixer-upper house and work hard, and walk and dance and drink wine and  get *&^%$#@ happy. And lose twenty-five pounds.

Anyway...

I will keep you posted.

I plan so many things, you know.

But, this is my new goal --  thin for this year.

I want to get rid of the chubbiness on my back right under my bra-strap.  Anyone with me...?

xo

Later...

Laura Lee

Broken Wing

“With a broken wing, she carries her dream. Man you oughtta see here fly...”

I am holding here at thirty-nine... and I think I'm still trying to decide if I like being thirty-nine.

I'm not my wittiest self this early morning. I can't sleep, and perhaps part of that is because my conscience has told me I promised I would write a blog that I haven't written.

I was looking at an entire group of people I'd grown quite fond of recently. They were these young and beautiful thespians at a local high school. I had the pleasure of costuming them, so I was privy to things like the size of their hips or the length from their neck to the floor. I think I had an epiphany. Each of these persons were sized differently from one another – sometimes in drastic variety – and yet when I looked at the whole of them, I found them all to be beautiful physically.

I think, to carry on further with this mindset, that it would be incredibly dull if all the people I costumed were the same size and height. I looked at the girls and realized two things. One: Their various curves were altogether very pleasing to look at. Two: The curvier ones, perhaps some would say “plump”, had an altogether different appeal to them which was certainly not less than the thin ones. Maybe even more.

Beauty really is not something we can stereo-type. It is ridiculous to think that one body-type is the right one, or that we should weigh the same, or have the same shaped legs, etc.

My daughter had a couple friends over last week. We were trying on clothes and giggling. I heard both of the friends talking about swimsuits, and was horrified to hear that each of the girls had recently been told similar things by their mothers. They were told that they were getting fat, and they wouldn't be getting new swimsuits this year because it would be embarrassing to take them to the beach. Or something like that.

One of the girls was skinny as a rail, and the other a completely curvy and beautiful young teen.

OK. I am a very disciplined and well-mannered lady when it comes to public appearances. I don't burp or fart around people. I don't put my elbows on the table at nice restaurants and I know the right forks to use. If I am unsure of things, I am quiet and don't draw attention. I know how to dress up, and I learned early how to walk in heels and how to sit properly while dressed up.

But if I ever hear any mother saying such horrible crap to their daughter, I will confront that mother. I will talk to that beautiful daughter in front of her mother and tell her that I am sorry anyone speaks to her that way. I will tell her she is beautiful and to never let anyone tell her otherwise.

Mothers, you have an important role. Don't tear down your daughters' self-esteems. Don't break their beautiful wings! They may never be able to rebuild them once you have destroyed them.

The thing is, I have been trying to get through this wretched winter by blogging about beauty and health. I have attempted consistent exercise when I don't even want to get dressed or leave the house sometimes.

So what do I have to show for it? Almost five months into my declared journey, I am pretty much exactly the same weight as when I started. My hair on my head might be a little longer, and the rest of the hair on my body might be gone, and my butt muscles might be a little smoother, but I am still just this full-figured girl from the Midwest. I have given up coffee and dairy, thus diminishing my migraines. (At least they aren't chronic anymore...) and I have increased my consumption of water and green tea. I have introduced myself to yoga, and begun my walking again. It is very hard to stay consistent to either routine. You don't need my excuses why – as they are the same excuses you come up with.

I have enjoyed learning about the many odd things I've shared, and I have enjoyed writing about my growing philosophy on beauty. I've decided to post pictures of myself in my swimsuit. My mother would be mortified to know her not-skinny daughter is posting pictures of herself in swimsuits, but I decided I am not bothered. I am ready to say, “Hey. This is me.” I kinda think my shape is absolutely fine just the way it is...

It's kind of freeing. Besides which, I have also decided that since I am officially thirty-nine-in-holding, I can keep up the blog and continue writing about my journey to fitness, beauty, and healthy skin. This is not going to stop just because the proverbial timer went off. (You'll have to scroll all the way down if you're determined to see my firm-but-chubby curves after a few months of working at it...)

I promised I would get a Brazilian wax and tell all about it.

Well, on Wednesday of this week, I did just that. Actually, I went to a studio where they do “sugaring” instead of waxing. I had studied up on it and decided to try this method because it sounded less painful than waxing. (Last summer I tried to wax my inner thighs myself with the Sally Hansen home kit. My skin was so black and blue with bruises. It was awful. I knew I needed professional help...)

There are some similarities between sugaring and waxing. First, with both, the technician applies product to your skin, and pulls hair out (rips hair out) quickly with a strip of fabric or gauze or whatever it is they use. But I am told that this is where the similarities end. Waxing pulls hair out in the opposite direction of its growth, and sugaring pulls in the direction it grows. Sugar-product is made from sugar, thus easy to clean up. The wax (at least from my experience last summer) – not so much.

OK. So here is how it went: I got to the studio exactly on time. I had prepped well ahead of time. I made sure I wasn't menstruating (this really seems like a no-brainer to me. But it is on all the websites for both sugaring and waxing – the warning that one should not get a Brazilian “Bare-it-All” waxing/sugaring while on their period. If you don't understand why, then perhaps you should not be reading this blog.) Secondly, the technician told me on the phone to not exfoliate in the areas where hair would be removed for the two days leading up to my appointment.

After I filled out initial paperwork (a little like a doctor's appointment), I went into a little room... just like at the gynecologists, only prettier. She had me take off my clothes from the waist down, clean/disinfect the area to be sugared with a special product she gave me, and then I sat on the table, covering with the little towel she'd provided me. (It was a little towel, too.) When she returned, I told her that I was actually a little nervous. She smiled and started talking to me. “What made you decide to try this?” We talked about my blog. We talked about sugaring versus waxing. We talked about babies – I have four, she has two. This conversation all took place as she was applying the gooey sugar product to my nether hairs, and ripping it off with a gauze. I had to hold my skin tight for her. Sometimes it hurt, but not too much.

She left a “landing strip” in the front to see if I liked it. She handed me a mirror, and I laughed because I was so red everywhere. She told me it would go back to normal after a few hours. (Incidentally, I chose to not have a landing strip. Why not get the whole lot of it removed, right? If I'm gonna do this, let's just do it.)

OK. So, when you get a Brazilian anything, you also opt to get hair removed from the backside. I am sooooo trying to word this so that it isn't uncouth. I laugh out loud. Hairy butt. That reminds me of when my oldest daughter was three and she saw me going to the bathroom... (OK. I will spare you the story...)

In order to accomplish this part of the Brazilian, the removing of hair that is just inside your butt-cheeks (if I were to wear a thong in public, this would be the purpose of such a service), I had to lay on my side and hold the area tightly so she could rip those pesky little hairs off.

By the time we were done, we were already talking about my next appointment in five weeks, and that it would get easier, less painful, and faster each time. I said, “Like weeding a garden.” She laughed. She hadn't thought of it that way before.

It is, though.

All in all, for a first-timer, it took about an hour of my life, and cost me $63 plus tip. I spent an extra $5 on some exfoliating gloves to use in the shower. She stressed that exfoliating was the single most important thing we can do for our skin's health, and to avoid ingrown hairs, whether in the nether regions or not. (However, she said to avoid exercise or exfoliating for two days so the skin could heal.)

I have since had a few irritated bumps on this newly smoothed skin. I am a redhead. We have ridiculously sensitive skin. I will just have to deal with it.

I have to say, I think I'm a fan. The one thing I came away with was this: I hardly ever spend money on myself at all. I don't get my hair done. (Have you seen my pictures? I might get my hair trimmed three times a year...) I don't have a stylist do any cool highlights or coloring. I am not one to spend the money on that. I am an absolute Scrooge about everything else.

So maybe I can try to afford this for myself, if it makes me feel pampered. I know I felt like a million bucks when I stepped out of the studio. I still do.

Why do we resist beautifying, if it is that we are resisting beautifying? I think there may be a couple of reasons. Maybe we think we are supposed to focus on the inner beauty, to the point of denying our outer person to be beautiful. That is sad. I encourage my girls to be lovely outside as well as on the inside. (My second-born does not need to be encouraged. She, the small tot who wouldn't eat a cookie if it was broken, because it wasn't “pretty” anymore...) The second reason we might stop ourselves from pursuing beauty may have something to do with feelings of self-worth.

I used to be attracted to men who were really cruel. I was always tormented and awaiting morsels of their goodness to be delivered in sarcastic smiles or a momentary gentle touch. My girlfriend looked at me one day and said, “Laura, that will change. That will change when one day you realize you deserve better.”

Ah. Epiphany number two: The day has arrived.

Long blog, I know. I will continue to write through the unfolding of my wings...

Until next time.... xoxo

Workin My Way Back To You Babe

“I'm Working my Way Back to You Babe... with a happiness blah-blah (don't remember those words....) Don't let it slip away..... or something....” (When the song is on I can sing every word! Dang it all!!)

Wow.

The date is just around the corner. You realize I'm not done yet, right? I am not all made-over like I should be after four months of attempting, deliberating, executing, re-thinking...

I wish I could tell you that I have diminished my size to (something in the single digits). Although, I don't really care that much. (I care a little or I wouldn't be talking about it...) I understand that sexy is a state of mind, and not a specific body type.

What I can tell you is that I have absolutely kicked coffee and pop, and I continue to not eat wheat. I avoid my other top allergen – dairy – even though occasionally some seeps into my otherwise very-bland diet. With this new and healthier eating-scenario, I am able to avoid my chronic migraines (therefore I don't take as many pain-killers), and I have a lot more energy than when I first began my blog. I have also noticed that my skin is in great condition.

I've maintained my weight throughout these cold winter months, which is a good thing. In my land (sounds like the beginning of a fairytale, doesn't it?) we tend to gain weight during the cold, immobile months. So maintaining, I believe, is actually getting ahead!

This being said, I look forward to what the next five weeks will hold for me in regular exercise (yoga), consuming of recommended amounts of water, and eventual re-introduction to the outside and walking.

I love walking.

I give myself until Friday, April 8^th, before I post any before and after photos.

Meanwhile, I thought I would tell you what I just read. I just read that the secret to losing NINE POUNDS a week is (drumroll...) positive thinking! That's right! I believe, therefore I am. Something like that.

How can a magazine claim this? How can anyone say that with a straight face?

Although, I do believe in the power of positive thinking. I think it is a wonderful tool for achieving goals. I teach it to my singers all the time.

Oh, alright. I am going to try it this week, OK? I am going to make an affirmation right here and now, and say it in the mirror every morning, and be all happy and giddy and powerful with positiveness this week.

I will tell you in exactly one week how many pounds I have lost.

My Affirmation:

I – am a brilliant oozing light of sexiness.

I – am a fabulous mother who teaches her children to not belch and fart in public.

I – am an amazing daughter who calls her mom at least once a month, whether she needs to hear my voice or not... (OK. I promise to call you more often, Mom.)

I – am a rockstar artisan of folk-jazz-alternative country music, fabric creations, and blog-wonders!

I – am a girl who is dedicated to healthy eating.

I – am a lover. I mean a lover of exercising.

I – am a delight to visit with. I visit with myself all the time...

I – will not be clumsy in the months of March and April. I am not clumsy, Why would I even say this?
I – am the picture of grace and beauty, calmly executing my moves from place to place within a room.

I – will reach my goal. I can do it. I deserve to do it. I choose to do it.

And, doggone it, people like me.

What do you think? There's something about this that I do believe... I've been through some odd and somewhat negative stuff for the past four weeks. And I'm not bad-mouthing anyone, (for the most part.) I'm doing my best to just push through. While I'm incredibly exhausted, emotionally which translates to physically, I can see that the positive attitude I continue to adopt, combined with the healthy lifestyle I've been working at (especially finally kicking that caffeine addiction) has been to my advantage through the hard times. It's weird. Sometimes I wanna write to you and spill all my junk.

Ewwwww. I'm not gonna do that. You don't want to read that. You want to read about my diet and exercise, my newest health soap-box, my quest for sexy hair and, of course, hairlessness...

On that note –

I'm finally ready to make a spa appointment to have my Brazilian done. I've promised you all that I would blog about it, without holding anything back. The thing is, I have to let my hair grow in a little in order to get the waxing done. (I've been using the no-name brand of Nair for several weeks now, and I love it!) I am curious to see if the waxing lasts longer, though, and if it provides a smoother surface.

Short blog, but I have lots to do. I have been sewing costumes non-stop for three weeks. My children are all involved in musical theater this time of year, and that means I am, too. :)

This isn't my most brilliant bit of writing, but it sounds like all we need to do is be committed to positive attitudes and we can make great things happen for us. I'm willing to try. I promise to check back in next Saturday to tell you about my nine pounds...

Workin My Way Back To You Babe

“I'm Working my Way Back to You Babe... with a happiness blah-blah (don't remember those words....) Don't let it slip away..... or something....” (When the song is on I can sing every word! Dang it all!!)

Wow.

The date is just around the corner. You realize I'm not done yet, right? I am not all made-over like I should be after four months of attempting, deliberating, executing, re-thinking...

I wish I could tell you that I have diminished my size to (something in the single digits). Although, I don't really care that much. (I care a little or I wouldn't be talking about it...) I understand that sexy is a state of mind, and not a specific body type.

What I can tell you is that I have absolutely kicked coffee and pop, and I continue to not eat wheat. I avoid my other top allergen – dairy – even though occasionally some seeps into my otherwise very-bland diet. With this new and healthier eating-scenario, I am able to avoid my chronic migraines (therefore I don't take as many pain-killers), and I have a lot more energy than when I first began my blog. I have also noticed that my skin is in great condition.

I've maintained my weight throughout these cold winter months, which is a good thing. In my land (sounds like the beginning of a fairytale, doesn't it?) we tend to gain weight during the cold, immobile months. So maintaining, I believe, is actually getting ahead!

This being said, I look forward to what the next five weeks will hold for me in regular exercise(yoga), consuming of recommended amounts of water, and eventual re-introduction to the outside and walking.

I love walking.

I give myself until Friday, April 8^th, before I post any before and after photos.

Meanwhile, I thought I would tell you what I just read. I just read that the secret to losing NINE POUNDS a week is (drumroll...) positive thinking! That's right! I believe, therefore I am. Something like that.

How can a magazine claim this? How can anyone say that with a straight face?

Although, I do believe in the power of positive thinking. I think it is a wonderful tool for achieving goals. I teach it to my singers all the time.

Oh, alright. I am going to try it this week, OK? I am going to make an affirmation right here and now, and say it in the mirror every morning, and be all happy and giddy and powerful with positiveness this week.

I will tell you in exactly one week how many pounds I have lost.

My Affirmation:

I – am a brilliant oozing light of sexiness.

I – am a fabulous mother who teaches her children to not belch and fart in public.

I – am an amazing daughter who calls her mom at least once a month, whether she needs to hear my voice or not... (OK. I promise to call you more often, Mom.)

I – am a rockstar artisan of folk-jazz-alternative country music, fabric creations, and blog-wonders!

I – am a girl who is dedicated to healthy eating.

I – am a lover. I mean a lover of exercising.

I – am a delight to visit with. I visit with myself all the time...

I – will not be clumsy in the months of March and April. I am not clumsy, Why would I even say this? I – am the picture of grace and beauty, calmly executing my moves from place to place within a room.

I – will reach my goal. I can do it. I deserve to do it. I choose to do it.

And, doggone it, people like me.

What do you think? There is something about this that I do believe... I have been through some odd and somewhat negative stuff for the past four weeks. And I am not bad-mouthing anyone, for the most part. I am doing my best to just push through. While I'm incredibly exhausted, emotionally which translates to physically, I can see that the positive attitude I continue to adopt, combined with the healthy lifestyle I've been working at (especially finally kicking that caffeine addiction) has been to my advantage through the hard times. It's weird. Sometimes I wanna write to you and spill all my junk. Ewwwww. I'm not gonna do that. You don't want to read that. You want to read about my diet and exercise, my newest health soap-box, my quest for sexy hair and, of course, hairlessness...

On that note –

I'm finally ready to make a spa appointment to have my Brazilian done. I have promised you all that I would blog about it, without holding anything back. The thing is, I have to let my hair grow in a little in order to get the waxing done. (I've been using the no-name brand of Nair for several weeks now, and I love it!) I am curious to see if the waxing lasts longer, though, and if it provides a smoother surface.

Short blog, but I have lots to do. I have been sewing costumes non-stop for three weeks. My children are all involved in musical theater this time of year, and that means I am, too. :)

This is not my most brilliant blog, but it sounds like all we need to do is be committed to positive attitudes and we can make great things happen for us. I'm willing to try. I promise to check back in next Saturday to tell you about my nine pounds...

Man in the Mirror

“I'm Gonna Make A Change,
For Once In My Life
It's Gonna Feel Real Good,
Gonna Make A Difference
Gonna Make It Right . . .”

In the past three months, I have cleaned my purse out (actually switched purses, I mean) three times!!!! If you know me at all, you understand that this means I took Purse A, overly full, crammed with receipts, energy-bar-wrappers, napkins, odd earrings and barrettes, a few assorted toys – you get the picture. I removed important things from Purse A – make-up bag, wallet, brush/hair pick, glasses, dental floss, etc. – and put them in Purse B. It's so clean and lovely for a spell, until I soon find it crammed full of receipts, wrappers, odd baubles and broken toys... at which point, I remove the essentials and place them in Purse C. I hope you understand what I'm saying.

Currently I have Purses A, B, and C hanging on the door knob in my room, and Purse D needs to be purged, essentials placed in Purse E. And all the other purses need the remaining guts of receipts, wrappers and odds and ends to be sorted/eradicated.

I NEED TO FINISH CLEANING OUT SOMETHING. Just once.

I cannot seem to get the one thing done, all neat and tidy, before starting the next.

Application: Gotta do that, Einstein.

My looming birthday is shared with Albert Einstein. :)

I think, sometimes, when we have trouble getting healthy/staying healthy, it might be because we have some looming Purses (with many letter names), so that the one we're holding brings us no joy. We understand that soon this new purse will hang like baggage on a hook inside of us, and we will move some essentials into the next one.

Bogged down with too many purses, how can we

1. Have any energy whatsoever?
2. Believe in ourselves?
3. Understand the processes required for rewiring our thinking?
4. Feel organized/prepared to do stuff?
5. And so on...

I cannot relax when the house is a disaster, or sit back and read a book when I have a lot of errands to run.

How can I change my life when I have not yet dealt with the unpleasant circumstances that helped me become unhealthy? That's a pretty big purse...

I'm not saying everything has to be completely “clean” in order for a change to be successfully made. That would, indeed, be depressing.

But asking ourselves “Why do I turn to coffee for comfort?” (I watched my parents suck pot after pot of it down through my childhood. My daddy was a preacher, and we kids joked that coffee was Baptist beer.)

“Why didn't I stay involved in activities?” There's a lot to this one – I was a girl, not allowed to wear anything revealing (which included all the official sports gear at school, cheerleading outfits, basketball or vollyball shorts-sets...), and we were not allowed to “dance.” I think conservative Christian homes from the eighties did their children an injustice by discouraging them from moving much at all. The gatherings we had – since no one played sports or cards or pool or anything – all centered around coffee and food.

Pasta.

Well, that's one purse.

I've got more.

Heck – you don't need to look inside all of my old purses, but, know that I am cleaning them out.

I like to dance, and I insist that my kids dance, by the way. :)

While cleaning out my “purses,” deciding to grab hold of my dreams and move with steady energy toward them, I realize that mental and physical health are twin sisters.

And for me, the secret to quality of life can be found while embracing both sisters.

Now, an update on the boring stuff:

I am proud to tell you I have kicked coffee and replaced it with tea. While I don't always have green tea, I have not bound myself to a life without ANY caffeine. I realize that coffee is a gravely dangerous temptation for me. I almost always have dairy if I am having coffee.

So the second thing is, I am rededicated to avoiding dairy, because it hurts me all over.

I refuse to cheat on drinking pop, as well.

The first day away from coffee was really tough. I was so sleepy and miserable. But it is getting better.

Combine this with my yoga, which I am trying to find enough time to do, and these upcoming weeks should be productive toward my ultimate goal.

Oh how I long for spring. I cannot wait to get outside and walk. I love being out during the semi-warm/warm weather. I understand that it's a challenge to stay in shape during the Midwest winter.

Boy do I.

Well – today, I'm sorting out the collected papers from my house. I have stashed mail, stashed assignments from my kids, old newspaper articles...

That's one of my purses, by the way.

Hopefully I will have more energy to do something really sweet for myself when it's all done.

Until Next Time...

Laura Lee

You Are So Beautiful... To Me...

Can't you see?

Something really, really nice happens when you set a goal.

Tiny little things inside of you start to adapt to your new idea – your goal.

Eventually you do one of two things. Either you give up and chase a new goal, or you move in the direction of your original goal.

When it comes to pursuing health and fitness, and, honestly, the pursuit of beauty, I can say I will never give up. I believe in the validity of such pursuits.

I will not lie and tell you that beauty isn't about what you look like on the outside, and it's “all about inner strength, intelligence, personality, etc. blah-blah-blah...” Tell that to some little girl who dreams of being a princess in the pink dress! We cannot dismiss the value of outer beauty, simply because we are angry about the distortion of it in society. The basic foundation of beauty comes from within, it's true; but the fruit of that beauty can be evident on the outside, with a bit of effort. Beauty comes in many, many packages, and non-traditional faces and shapes are just as beautiful as ones we immediately recognize via media images.

Beauty, I believe, is each person being the best they can be. We can achieve this in one area, in a handful of areas, or in many areas. Some people achieve it physically, but lack in other areas (like personality or intelligent actions, for instance.) I choose to believe that these persons have inner beauty, although under-developed. A lot of times, there is so much pain and insecurity driving this person to be shallow or mean, that I can believe the depth and sweetness is hidden, instead of assuming it is non-existent.

On an extreme flip, someone who is kind and generous, but lacking what we deem as “physical beauty,” I have to believe has this physical beauty as well. It's just hidden underneath pain and insecurity – just like the inner-beauty of the carbon-copy-person.

With this belief, I choose to notice amazing qualities about myself and others, both physical and internal. I will notice a delicate nose and gorgeous eyes. I will disregard heavy legs or unflattering hair. I will embrace a person's energy to accomplish tasks in an orderly fashion, and disregard the little bites which that same person may take (sinking teeth into the hearts of others.)

The search for beauty is the search for balance. The search for balance is the search for beauty. We begin searching for either, and if we do it correctly, the outcome is both.

I have been working on this, believe it or not, for quite some time. I just began blogging about my newly ignited journey on November 14^th, 2010. My initial deadline was March 14^th, 2011, the day I will turn thirty-nine. In this time, I have written useful things right alongside silliness, proving my ability to be distracted is incredible. I want to prove my ability to re-focus is also tremendous.

I have, in the last week, begun a yoga program. I bought a DVD, actually, for $9, and a yoga mat for $9. I began trying to do it, intrigued by the calm instructor, Ashley Turner (who is from my dream-city, Los Angeles). I've found the program extremely challenging, very fulfilling, an amazing workout, and overall a healing endeavor. I will continue to do this. I, in fact, think I may have discovered a way for someone like myself to love working out even when it isn't feasible to get outside. See, when the weather is gorgeous and semi-warm, I can be found walking three, five or seven miles on any given day. I love the outdoors, and I covet my alone time with nature. It clears my head. I am a nicer mother and a better woman when I do this for myself. The power and discipline I exert over my own body when I workout is not matchable by any other high. I promise you this.

I have a high-maintenance figure. I will not lie to you. I have never been traditional “skinny.” God gave me some curves, people. I have had to work through the psychology of hating my body, being angry at my mother for my full thighs and short waist, being angry at my grandmother for my large breasts (I always wanted little “athletic” ones...) and being angry at myself for not joining track my senior year of high school after my boyfriend broke up with me and I fell into my first giant depression. (I trace my initial gain of ten pounds to this month of my life...) So, in forgiving my gene-pool and my life experiences (and even that first boyfriend), I've realized that my curves are pretty, and softness is feminine, and feminine is powerful, and I am beautiful.

How am I beautiful? Why am I beautiful? No, not because I am somehow text-book beautiful. Not at all. I think if you have been following my blog, you should realize that I don't care that much about maintaining thigh/bikini/armpit hairless-ness, and I certainly don't judge people who don't take as much care in grooming their legs and armpits as I do lately. (I laugh out loud.) However, I am truly enjoying my groomed look, and will probably keep it up. It is part of a discipline for me right now, propelling me toward a feeling of being fit and in charge.

I otherwise have long, usually unkempt hair, my make-up is half of the time “the natural look,” and the other half of the time, for the sake of performances as a musician “totally glamorous.” I appreciate both looks. My wardrobe is also mixed – either a hippie, a formal dress for performance, or a teacher-y woman – you know, slacks/skirt, blouse, sweater...

So it isn't that. It's none of that.

The beauty that I am feeling is this inner bubble of hope and peace. I don't always feel it as readily as I feel it this week, but it's there. It propels me to smile and be kind. It propels me to laugh and enjoy the moment. It gives me just enough energy to take a shower sometimes (fight the depression, people; some of you know what I mean...). This bubble is just enough to remind me that my children and their friends will see me today, so tuck in my tummy, wear some hipster jeans and a little jacket, brush my hair, and for heavens' sake put on some lipstick... (Sometimes, it's really important to be as cute as possible because it makes our children feel good. Often, even, that's the best reason.)

You know – I don't think this is shallow. When I feel good about myself because my kids are excited that I look pretty, everything about the way I conduct the rest of the day improves.

We shouldn't fight beauty. We should embrace it. We're all capable of achieving it, focusing our energy on balance and good body alignment. That is where it starts. When we are balanced, we make choices which draw us toward our best version of ourselves. I hope I have written that clearly.

This, by the way, I knew long before I started doing yoga. In fact none of what I wrote today came from the yoga program I am currently doing. I just feel inspired to cough out some things to you I was already mulling around, and they seem to be in alignment with the things being reiterated by the yoga instructor.

Setting that goal, sticking to it... sometimes the two concepts don't happen in the same week, month, or even year. Here I am, raw and open before you, letting you know that I am now finally serious about working out through these cold days. I'm embracing beauty – which, for me, includes absolutely any technique that interests me about discipline, strength, skin, and balance – and I am embracing me, good and bad. Beautifully flawed.

Until next time...

Laura Lee

Love Lift Us Up Where We Belong...

“Love Lift Us Up Where We Belong... where the eagles fly on a mountain high...”

I have decided that Brussell has an infatuation with me. Brussell is the eagle I keep “getting to see” in these boondocks I call home. (We always name our favorite birds in my family. We have a Great Blue Heron named Eve, as well.) This week's eagle-sighting was while driving westward to my home, ten miles yet from my road. My daughter, Emily, and I saw the large set of wings and the shadow of a magnificent bird gliding low across the field. I noticed, with that quick glimpse I was able to initially get, that the bird's wings were flat outstretched and not flapping. It was either a HUGE hawk, or, or...

I shrieked, unsafely swerving a little as usual, and whispered, “What was that?” Emily, finally now understanding at nearly fifteen years old that I am incredibly geeked about seeing these birds, looked closely.

“White head! White head! White head!” she cried excitedly.

“What? For real? Ohmygosh!” We pulled off the road, thankful that no one was behind us. (The snow and ice is abundant on the roads this week, so this whole ordeal was not my brightest moment on driving safety.) We watched Brussell swoop low in the field right next to us and continue to a spindly tree not far away in which he perched.

“Turn at the road right there!” Emily ordered. I did, and we pulled right up under the tree where our eagle sat.

We barely breathed, hearts beating wildly. I grabbed my daughter's hand and giggled. Brussell looked down at us. He stayed put.

“I have my camera,” Emily mentioned. (I was thinking about the FLIP video camera I'd just taken out of my purse and left on my bed earlier that day. Mental punching of self...)

“Oh! You do?” Hope rising.

“Yeah,” she smiled. She reached back and got it as I rolled our windows down. She climbed out her window and took several shots. Brussell readjusted himself a little, taking note of us. We laughed.

Then two dogs came running out of the farm house in front of which we were parked. They barked at us, yelling at our audacity to be in front of their yard. The little Pitt-Bull came close to the road and yelled the loudest, while the giant Rottweiler stayed back and gave deep-throated woofs. I think maybe he was yelling at the smaller dog to shut the heck up.

Either way, Brussell decided to leap off the tree and fly toward the north. Emily took a couple more pictures of the outstretched wings, and we waited until we couldn't see him anymore before driving the rest of the way home.

Always forever changed.

That's how I feel when I see one – Always forever changed. We saw one on Christmas Day – probably Brussell. Although I wonder if it was Beulah, his wife. Our Christmas eagle looked a little bigger. That sighting was right across the street from my home, pretty much.

All this to say: Eagles can make their bodies go out of joint in order to ride out storms. Yee-haw! I really admire the eagle, and this is just one more reasons to admire him! Or her.

Also, the eagle waits for a gust of air and rides it without struggling. This is why we see them gliding and not flapping their wings.

How smart!

Applying this: I really believe in maintaining flexibility. (We talked about this a few blogs ago.)

I know. That was round-about. (It's my blog; I can tell it my way.)

Today, I have decided to purchase a medicine ball, or whatever they are called, so I can do a free-weight program for the lower body with it. I am also going to incorporate my big exercise ball into this. I think I will do this instead of joining a gym for now, because it helps me economically.

I self-removed most of the hair on my body this last week, by the way. Yes, I do mean that hair. I used a cream hair removal. It was a no-name brand version of Nair, or something. I bought it for $1.50 at Family Dollar. I have not had any negative affects, and I plan to do it again later today to get the stragglers, now that I know my skin can handle it. I left a landing-strip (feel free to stop reading if this is hard for you...Mom...) and trimmed it with scissors.

The bottle said not to let any of the cream get “inside” of me, basically, and that's why I just used it on outside places. I have named this procedure an “extreme bikini wax without the wax.” It is not Brazilian. That will be professionally done, of course, because it's not just the outside and front that gets done... (I told you to stop reading, Mom...) ALL OF THE HAIR in the whole region gets addressed. Hehehehehe.

Anyway – I really, super like the results of this. I could get used to this being part of my regular routine of self-maintenance. And I didn't break out in bumps, probably because I did not use a razor. I lotioned up immediately after I was done, and a few times after that, and never had a problem. Still a week later, my hair isn't growing in, so I've confirmed my initial reaction to cream hair removal as being a better way than razors simply because if done right, it lasts longer.

Lastly, I want to write a short list (according to Laura) of reasons why setting goals is good for your health.

1. Maybe you'll actually get something done, and the happy endorphins will release and cause less stress.
2. Reach for the moon, you'll land in the stars. (I told you that before...) It's true – even if you don't finish each thing on your list in the time you originally gave yourself, let yourself feel good for all that you did manage to accomplish. I think eventually we learn to write better lists so that we can accomplish everything on them.
3. If we never set a goal, we'll reach it every time. (I didn't make that one up, either.) Ouch, right? Healthy people understand that staying busy is essential. Crazy people are too busy, (ahem), but there's a healthy place in between goal-less and super-human. It's called healthy.
4. Read O'Henry's, “The Last Leaf.” It's my favorite short story about a woman who's dying of pneumonia, and she's so weak that there's no fight left in her. She vows to let go and let herself die as soon as the last leaf on the little tree outside her window has fallen. Well, that little leaf hangs on, and hangs on, until one day... (So read the story.) A goal can sometimes be that one thing between success and letting go...
5. Health depends upon our attitude. If we have a good attitude, we are more charged to make choices that are good for us. A goal is a tool. We can set a goal when we have rotten attitudes; we can set it out of necessity or this deeply-rooted sense of doing what we know we should. When we begin disciplining ourselves to make small, baby steps toward that goal, it can be the defining moment toward ultimately changing our lives, and eventually finding health.

Making positive choices is no joke. Health is the only way we can enjoy life on this earth. Plagued with disease and exhaustion, (too much) extra weight, and stresses about things we can't change – nothing will drag us down to death or mere existence faster.

Next blog, obviously an update on the free-weight and exercise ball routine. I will also talk about how my stretching is going, and some choices about food and drink I am making.

And, of course, if I see Brussell again, I'll tell you, and sprinkle in something eagle-ish and inspirational. (Did you know that there are no eagles in Hawaii? None of any kind... It's the only of the fifty states where none are spotted, ever...)

xoxo

Until next time...

Laura Lee

Good Day Sunshine!

"I need to laugh, and when the sun is out
I've got something I can laugh about
I feel good, in a special way
I'm in love and it's a sunny day ..."

It is incredible outside today. I know, I know. It's still midwest winter. But it will be OK. That's going to be my mantra until spring.

Until my butt-thigh makeover deadline, actually.

IT WILL BE OK.

I am starting to feel stronger, like I can take on my many things I love to do and commit to do.

I asked myself this week what I love doing more than anything in the world. It was difficult to answer. I decided that I love writing. I write every day, to some extent. I rarely have no words (take me to a doctor if I run out of words). Thirty-almost-nine-years into this journey here and I have truly never been at a loss...

I love playing piano, singing, sewing, baking, walking, dancing, and talking about holistic health... but nothing quite compares to writing. My daughter looked at me yesterday and said, “You should write all the time, Mom, because it makes you happy. I've never seen you so happy...”

The only reason I am telling you this is because what I love most in the world to do, what I hope to someday turn into a way to make a living for my kids and me (writing, in case you didn't pick up on that,) is also completely counter-productive to staying fit. :(

Sitting on your butt, writing about walking, writing about dancing and climbing and sex, writing about drinking green tea and water (all while sipping super-sized iced coffees), stopping to eat a little piece of holiday fudge or to take a nap... I can see how some people and writing could become a treacherous marriage of delusion. It takes much effort to maintain a healthy body in today's society.

So maybe you are not in love with writing, like I am. It's just an example. I have talked with many people lately about “The Way We Grew Up.” Do you remember winters of our youth? I know I'm not crazy when I tell you that I spent every day outside. Winters we were out making snowmen, sledding, skating, skiing, riding snowmobiles, or simply exploring the woods. We wore our winter garb until it was soaked, and then we went to the “B” winter garb, which often included socks on our hands and plastic bags on our feet with rubber bands around the ankles to hold them up. (I had never heard of American Eagle Outfitters or Aeropostle, so I didn't require name brand winterwear in order to go outside.) By the time the “B” garb was soaked, our “A” garb was dry on the heating vent and we put it back on.

How did we get from there to needing gadgets and special gear before we can even get moving? Little wrist-watch-style trackers that plug into our brain cells and tell us things we think we need to know about our bodies in order to move them; special sports carb gels to replenish bodies (on sale for $1.49 each!!!), and these incredible shoes and boots for every imaginable activity. I understand that tools to help us achieve goals without harming ourselves are good and worthy. I just think we might set ourselves up for quitting before we even really start.

I think teens have something over us on this. Let's extract a little. I do not have cable, there is one computer we all share (and my kids tell me I am really stingy about sharing, so they aren't on very often,) the kids don't have cell phones, and we live on a farm in the middle of nowhere. So I will use my “bored-out-of-their-minds” kids as examples.

Against their wills, they find things to do!

I know I've said some of this before, but I am looking at positive things about being who we are, where we are, how we are.

1.) We put CDs in the DVD-player and dance for forty-five minutes. Maybe we don't dance straight through, but the way I see it, it's better than if we didn't do it at all.

2.) When we go to the store, I park far away. I don't like fighting for a close spot because I have anxiety in crowds anyway. The walking is actually OK. It might not be more than a three-minute-walk, but that's six minutes once we walk back to our car after the shopping is done. It's cold, so we walk fast. That's probably 3/8 of a mile, in reality. Two stores later and we've done a mile. :)

3.) This one might be difficult: My kids have always climbed the doorways. It amazes me. The older they get, they more difficult it is, but my eight-year-old can still climb (like Spiderman) to the top. I don't know how to apply this. I probably shouldn't have mentioned it.  Hmm.

4.) Because we are all creative, it makes us fairly disorganized and forgetful. This isn't the worst thing in the world when it comes to fitness, because it means we have to go back in the house, all the way up the stairs, into the room, down, up, down, and up again looking for socks, coats, shoes, papers, purses, etc. (This was a stretch...)

Implementing little things into each day which increase movement is my goal. I have committed to sitting on my butt a lot with all the writing I am doing. When I'm not writing, I am often playing the piano, which is still sitting. I know I'm not alone in my frustrating realization that I no longer move the way I used to, even if I still think I do.

I still have to decide about joining that gym (even though I feel more powerful and capable of doing it myself than I did the last time I blogged). I feel that my money could be better spent elsewhere. Although, if I don't incorporate activity on a regular basis, I ought to spend the money on a membership, I guess. I, one of the most frugal spenders you will ever meet, would never spend money on a gym membership and then proceed to not use it. There is a point to spending money on something. It makes us value it more, even if we can technically get the same results without spending the money.

To update you, my fabulous followers and friends, I have been eating well this new year. No major indulgences. My skin is looking good, my energy is returning from my crazy, stressful, blue holiday, and my attitude is once again spilling over with optimism. I like me again. I am not going to make any New Year's resolutions or anything, since I already spelled out great ideas at the beginning of this blog. I continue to believe in the challenge. I continue to work toward the goal, ever-slowly at times. Faster now than a couple weeks ago, though.

The one thing I will leave you with today is this: I read a few months ago about a woman who lost a tremendous amount of weight. She regained control of her life and transformed her mind and overall belief in herself. It was really inspirational. The one thing she said that stuck with me was this: Don't own “fat-clothes.” There should be nothing comfortable about gaining weight.

I am really glad I have no fat clothes. I continuously go through my closet and donate clothes I don't wear and ones that are too big for me. It is what saved me over the holidays. I had a week there where my jeans were a little uncomfortable around my waist and I wanted to buy a stretchy velour grandma-suit and a box of donuts (not that I could eat them...), but I didn't. I endured the tight waistline, and changed my consumption of foods and liquids until my jeans felt good again.

Beauty is not defined by the shape of our bodies, no. I do not look at others in a judgmental way regarding that, nor do I believe I am only about physical appearance. I would hate for someone to read about me in this blog and glean this inaccuracy. Beauty is very much about how we perceive ourselves and whether we like who we are, though. And if being fit makes us like ourselves more, then it is a worthy endeavor. I have found that when mama's happy, everyone's happy...

Next blog: Update on hair removal as part of beautifying, update on stretches and activities (including gym or no gym), and a list of reasons why making goals is good for our health.

xoxo

Laura Lee