Popeye

I am of the Popeye watching, spinach eating generation. It was canned spinach too, people! Popeye was into affirmations long before the rest of the world caught on. His trademark affirmation: "Yuck, yuck, yuck --- I am what I am!"

That's me, folks. I am what I am. I am a mom, currently of 5. I am a wife. I am an excellent cook. I'm a good housekeepr and enjoy making a home, but have largely given up on keeping things really picked up given that I am outnumbered 7 to 1 (if you count the dog).

I can act crabby and driven and bossy at times. I am not what I do or produce, though I frequently forget that. I have a big heart. I am challenged by saying, "No." I truly want the best for everyone. I have graying hair and 35 pounds of excess weight. I look younger than I am (51) and have lost 45 pounds in the last year. I am an optimist and not given to jealousy. I have an occasional conniving drama, not my prettiest side. I like the pleasing drama better. I am more relaxed than I used to be and still could afford to ease up, especially on myself!

At this moment, I am ignoring 3 little kids who are awake because they haven't technically said, "Mommy" yet -- although I will likely be sorry if I ignore them much longer!

My purpose is to live in the present but I spend some time leaning toward the future. I am a skilled coach and an even better friend. I am complex but love simplicity; I am soulful, faithful, joyful and musical.

I am made of light . . .
and bird-song . . .
and hope.

And that is only a part of the picture. I awoke this morning early to make sourdough biscuits and connect with an English friend. When the alarm went off, my first thought --aside from "what is that terrible noise?"-- was, "I am who I am."

I think it is good for each of us to remember this from time to time. Please write me and tell me who YOU are! I truly want to know.

Simmering

Note: I am double-posting this in my Bright Weight Loss blog. I am letting you know in case you are a reader of both!

As I write, the smell of Swiss Steak slowly simmering in the crock pot is wafting through the house. I have been on a cooking jag. In the past 3 days, I have cooked $600 worth of food and put it in the freezer for my family.

Cooking is my creative outlet -- some folks paint, I cook! Of course, it's not just about me. I really want to know what my loved ones are putting in their mouths.

It's not only that I wonder what price we will eventually pay for all these chemical cocktails we consume, but also because of how that manufactured food affects our brains. We are created to respond to the most striking impetus so that we can pay attention to what truly matters and thus prioritize that the mammoth or saber-toothed tigers chasing us is more urgent than how absolutely beautiful the sunrise is. Food manufacturers trade on that impulse by using chemicals to create extra-palatable foods and before we know it, we're hooked. They cry out to us, "pay attention" and unless we are very disciplined, we do. In addition, highly processed -- aka manufactured -- foods speed through our digestive system, so our "full" sensors don't go off and we keep eating long after we've consumed enough calories. With processed foods being such a major part of most contemporary Western diets, our mind-body connection is in imminent peril.

Processed foods and fast food were not part of my childhood and as a young adult, I did not realize the dangers. I did not know that a steady diet of these foods would skew my sensory perceptions of food. I don't want my girls or my young foster kids to be hooked on these food substitutes. I reason that if I am able to keep them mostly off the road of manufactured foods, maybe it won't become a super-highway. Maybe if they aware of the dangers, as I was not, they will choose a more wholesome and health-some route.

I also want them to have the joy of eating! I want them to know the crispness of fresh vegetables and the depth of flavor in olive oil. I want them to have to chew their steak and to know the natural sweetness of milk and of bread. I want them to have the sense of "enough" that I had as a youngster. But more, I want them to know the joy of anticipation, of smelling a meal for an hour as it is prepared, and to enjoy its unfolding at the table. I want them to have "slow food;" food that is lovingly and thoughtfully created and then enjoyed with conversation and reflection.

So I cook. And with seven people currently in the house, I cook . . . and cook some more. And in the process of creation, I find that I am re-created. Cooking is a sensual experience. The fragrance of fresh herbs and sauteing vegetables is intoxicating. Chopping and mincing is meditative - it nurtures in me some ancient inner longing. Tending a pot of simmering, thickening sauce is prayer. As each dish is parceled, wrapped and frozen, it is filled not only with a short list of whole foods (every ingredient of which I can pronounce and identify), but also with hope and with love. It's me, being faithful.

The point of all this is to inspire you, dear reader, to this week be faithful. Do whatever it is that makes the most of you -- that nurtures your inner longing -- that fulfills and sews together whatever is becoming fragmented in you. It doesn't matter if a masterpiece is created or merely table scraps. What is truly created endures -- regardless of how long the artifact lasts.

PS - Just in case you want to know, here's what I created this week (all in 8 portions per package):

3 Pasta e Fagioli Soup
3 Marinated Flank Steak
3 Flank Steak Fajitas with Artichoke Chick-Pea Hummus, Sweet and Spicy Salsa, and Steak-Sauce
4 Chicken Cacciatore
4 Taco meat
4 Sausage gravy (occasional special breakfast for the kids)
Everta's Sourdough Starter for pancakes, biscuits and breads
4 Red Beans, Cajun style
3 Nancy Lee's Chicken Pie
4 Swiss Steak
3 Refried Beans
Molases Cookie dough - enough for 12 dozen

To these I just add some fresh veggies, fresh fruit and memories! Mangia, mangia!

Winds of Faith

Howdy!

My life has changed considerably since my "Doors Opening and Closing" post in January. I could never have imagined back then where all these new doorways and hallways would lead. I said in that post that I was embracing the openings to my new role as a foster parent. Holy cow. More prophetic words were never spoken!

3 months ago, Paul, Alli, Chanelle and I opened our home and hearts to a sibling group of three. When they came to us they were all under 3 years old, but now they are 1, 2, and 3 (boy, girl, boy). For privacy reasons, I can't include pictures or their names, but it has been an incredible journey. I have learned some lessons as a mom -- more on that in another post. But perhaps more importantly, I've learned some lessons as a human BEING. With little ones, it is all about the being -- and that is sometimes challenging in the midst of all the DOING that is required!!

There has been a mighty wind blowing through my home since about the time these little ones came in. It has been a cleansing wind -- clearing out the rubbish and rubble of the past and making a new way forward. Paul and I faced a mighty battle -- not caused by the itty bitty's -- but illuminated by them. We are once again a "new creation" -- facing forward with a strength and solidarity even greater than we have known before. There has been a renewal of my relationship with the "big" girls -- having the little ones around has helped me to see them with new eyes as well -- to remember that they, too, are still children and possess a sweetness and innocence all their own.

But I am most humbled and surprised by the wind that has blown through me. I have lost 45 pounds -- I am more than halfway to my goal! I weigh 16 pounds LESS than I did 10 years ago . . . how many women over 50 can claim that? Every time I look in the mirror, I'm shocked. Who is that woman? Oh, I know her. But it's not the "old me" I am seeing. It's a new me, released and re-formed by chipping away not only on the outside, but shaped by hours of exercise and personal work. It's me in a newer and finer form. I can't wait to see what happens when I put aside the rest of the excess weight!

I forgot what I am capable of. Has that ever happened to you? I forgot what it means to make an act of faith -- to trust something that seems ridiculous or doesn't make sense -- to just take it on faith. When I joined the Catholic church in 1998, I struggled with the concept of "transubstantiation" -- that is that the bread and wine literally become the body and blood of Christ. I decided I would not/could not join the church until I had worked that out. I wrangled with it for several months and all the experts told me the same thing -- it is an act of faith. And so I practiced believing until I believed.

It was an act of faith to begin this particular weight loss journey. It seemed crazy and unworkable at the time, but it is working. So glad I trusted that it was the way forward for me.

When it came to taking in these kids, it required an act of faith for sure! We had no idea how we'd do it --but we knew we were called to it. Everyone thought we were crazy -- but that is how it often is with callings. And it has been both easier and harder than we thought and so very worth it. Every day is a lesson wrapped up in a blessing a blessing wrapped in a lesson.

When that mighty wind blew through my marriage -- it required an act of faith to stand in. I did not know if I had the faith and then I remembered joining the church. Having faith in a right-here-right-now person with flesh and blood -- someone known to and loved by me -- trusting Paul -- that did not require so much faith, after all. I got support from my family and a few close friends; and practiced the mantra "only believe." Don't get me wrong -- there was plenty of "work" involved and there is work yet to do. But the open door -- that first step -- the way in was faith.

I think in a the practical, technological world we now live in, we can easily forget about faith. We forget that so much of life is a mystery and unexplainable by us. We forget that sometimes we really do not need to know. Had you told me what these months would hold, what would be required of me in work and in faith, I probably would have said, "No thanks" and would have run the other way. But what you could not have told me, could not have known, was how much blessing and joy all of that challenge would offer.

I don't know why I felt compelled to tell these stories on a similar vein -- but I am trusting that someone somewhere needs to hear them and remember that sometimes it is really is just a matter of faith.

[2012 edit:  here is a picture of the "Littles" on the day they arrived.  How young they were!]

Doors: Opening and Closing

Last year on my 50th birthday, I made a decision that I was 100% committed to my weight loss effort. Doors were closing to me because of my weight. Some people are prejudiced against obese people; they assume we are lazy or self-indulgent. Airplane seats were too snug; I felt embarrassed about the way my fat kept pushing the arm up. My co-workers were -- at times -- dismissive of me; some of them told me I was exercising a lack of self-mastery.

At that point, I was still healthy, but I could see the "handwriting on the wall," so to speak. I knew that if the door opened to diabetes or heart disease, those would be hard doors to close. I decided I would do whatever it took to get back to a healthy weight. I knew that it would not be easy --- I'd spent the last four years 75% committed with little results.

As soon as I set my sights on that goal, I became aware of doors opening and closing all around me.

My internist closed his door. He said, "I have done what I can to help you. You need to move over to medical weight loss or you are going to get in trouble with your health. In my opinion, the genetic cards are stacked against you and this is not something you can accomplish on your own."

In the fall, a friend opened the door to a website called SparkPeople. I found there a lot of support and encouragement, as well as the easiest food and fitness trackers I've come across so far. It has been life-giving. And it's free!

75% of my freelance event coordinator job went overseas. Slam! Some people would look at this closed door as a dead end, but since we do not depend on my income for basic necessities (thank you, Paul), I saw a big open door to more exercise and greater focus on my health.

With fewer work responsibilities, there was a door open to foster parenting, a "want" that seemed impossible with my big job previously. Fostering -- though not as frequent as I'd like -- has encouraged me to be more active and helped me expand my vision for our family.

Lessened freelance work allowed me to open wide the door to my coaching practice. And coaching allows me to remember for myself the power of intention and how much can be learned both from meeting and falling short of my goals. When I'm coaching, I work harder at "practicing what I preach" and my whole life has gone from being a little out of tune to ringing clear.

Also in the fall, I decided I wanted to do the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer and there was a sunny door open with a neon sign over the top saying "Walk this way!" Turns out the Avon walk is on my 51st birthday! How is that for synchronicity? At first I had to push on a few doors to find the opening for my training because it takes a lot of time. But the openings are there -- I only needed to look for them.

As I've been successful at weight loss, I have found my training easier and easier. This has opened doors "to the future" as I plan what I will do for exercise in 70-something days when the Avon walk is over. I see possibilities I never did before!

It is all about choosing. It is about taking what God is offering and saying Yes! It's about seeing each closed door as a chance to open a different one. It's about trusting that inevitably, there is a force for "good" working in my life and that though I cannot always see the whole path, the next step is right in front of me and all I have to do is take that next step! Or jiggle the door-knob a bit and see what happens!

I'd love to hear about the doors in your life! What doors are closing and which are opening?

Please Help Me Make a Difference!

In 2007, my dear friend Martha Edgemon told me that her daughter-in-law, Karson Beaty, had breast cancer. Karson was 30 years old when diagnosed. I clearly remember the exact moment Martha said the word, "cancer." I remember how my heart felt heavy and I had a queasy feeling in my stomach. What can I do?," I wondered, "How can I help?"

As I followed Karson's journey over the next many months, her battle was never far from my mind. I barely passed science in school; creating my own cure is probably out of my reach. One day an online friend wrote me that she was doing a breast cancer walk. I realized that while medical science is not my forte, endurance certainly is. I started researching the walks and found one that seemed ideal for me, The Avon Walk. It covers 39 miles in two days and a Walk is held annually in Houston, only a 3-hour drive away. In Texas, that's close!

Last fall, it was finally time to begin my training and now my walk is only 77 days away. My training (at this stage) consists of a 13 mile walk Saturday followed by a 7 mile walk Sunday and a 3 and 5-mile walk through the week. 8 weeks from now I'll be logging 45 miles a week.

A lot of great things have happened to me in this training. I've lost 25 pounds. My legs are strong and my steps are sure. My family have become my support-team with Paul on foot at my side for the "long" walks and the girls on bikes. We are all doing this big thing together.

But the greatest thing is that I am making a difference. As a participant, I boldly agreed to raise $1800 in donations before the event. this money will help fund breast cancer research and screening for those who can't afford it. The research is what most thrills me, because, as my shirt says, I'm "In it to END it."

I'm dedicating my walk to Karson, who is still fighting her battle. I'm also walking for my mom's best friend, Joan, still fighting. And for Kathy A and Irene S. who won their battles; I'm walking for Mary Pearl and Paul's Grandma Florene, who not only triumphed but lived a full life for several decades afterward. And I'm walking especially for each person who will lose their battle to breast cancer every 14 minutes of every single day, every week of every month of every year -- until a cure is found. I'm walking so that should this disease ever touch either of my beautiful girls, their odds will be better.

Will you help me? Every donation of any size will help me reach my goal, which in turn can change the future of this deadly disease. To use a credit card, click HERE!! To write a check or donate cash, please email me (dreena@gmail.com) for instructions. Thank you so very much.