The Super Moon in my Belly

As much as it grieves me to admit this... I am a sensitive person.  I think "grief" is the correct word.  Maybe embarrassed? Hesitant? Scared?  It's a vulnerable thing to admit to myself much less to you guys.  That's also assuming that I've kept it a secret, which is really more like I didn't want to believe it while those around me see it everyday.  Being honest with myself, then, I admit it - I'm a dote.

A good dote... but a dote.

Over this past year the heavens have hosted a series of "super" moons... meaning that the moon is pretty dang close to the planet.  At the risk of sounding super new-agey, this has meaning for me, personally.  And it can be scientifically based for those of us who need a little more concrete data. 

Let's think about it, the moon is known to regulate the tide and swells of the water.  The human body is made up of a lot of stuff, mostly water.  So, to me, new-agey-ness aside, it makes sense that the human body would equally be affected by the moon and it's phases.  It's our own awareness of this that gets muted and dulled. 

Ask any hospitalist, case manager or nurse's assistant that works within facilities and hospitals... a full moon means an influx of activity.  Perhaps police officers and rescue squads may agree?  The moon affects us because, well, we are walking bodies of fluid. 

The moon is also attributed to having an ebb and flow on emotions... the feely kind.  I was a grade-school-ankle-biter when I noticed that the ocean looked angry... it was choppy and brusque and foamy.  Along the same page, a calm, lapping pond elicits feelings of peace and tranquility.  Religious and lyrical writings alike use similar imagery of water to emulate emotion.  The moon, that dynamic orb of rock in the sky, has a direct influence.

What does this have to do with my belly?  Two words: emotional eating.  I do it.  I have since I was wee.  It's an instantly gratifying activity that distracts as much as it comforts.  A mixture of flavors and textures and immediate enjoyment, eating is a one-way-ticket to instant paradise for me. 

Combine this with normal life ups and downs, and this practice becomes a best friend... always there to lift you up and hold you when stress or sadness or anything less-than-okay knocks on your proverbial door.  It's just an eye-opener... and invitation to look deeper into myself.  I want to discover the why and how that this has become such a second-nature happenstance for me...

So I talked to the moon last night.  I said - Hey you, big beautiful glowing rock thing... if you have sway on the who's and what's of my emotions, would you mind showing me how to respond differently?  I mean, it's cool that you can wreak havoc on my psyche and stuff, but uh... give me a surf board or something okay?

Maybe the moon is just showing me what I already know about myself... the food does not have to be a "weakness"... it is a strength.  My response is the challenge to make choices that actually feed by body; to be mindful of when I'm just putting on a band aid re: circumstance or stress or boredom. 

Sometimes I think she mocks me, the moon.  But last night, she smiled as said "Be gentle with yourself.  You're learning a lot."

So I went out to eat Mexican with some friends.  Also, I had two Sangrias.  My belly was so entirely full and expanded that it was as if the moonbeams crawled inside to make a baby super moon.  And as I gazed up at that lunar sphere from the parking lot, I smiled and said, "Well played you punk.  Well played."

And it's now 3:11 AM...

It's 2:34 AM on July 4... so technically this is day 5. 

If you're scratching your head wondering why the *&#% I'm awake at - now - 2:35 AM, know that you are not alone.  For I, also, remain perplexed.  So, let's do a quick recap.

Day 3 was difficult.  I was hungry a lot and incredibly lethargic.  It was as if someone started putting sand in my eyeballs and heavy weights on my brain by 11 AM.  The moment I walked into my home after seeing several clients, I could no longer stand upright.  I simply proceeded to... how do you say... PASS OUT?.. for several hours. 

So naturally this gave me some serious pause.  Am I doing the right thing?  Is this part of my body adjusting?  Is there something I need to do differently?

Later that day, the pharmacy called.  My thyroid medication was ready to be picked up.  Ding ding ding!  I finally realized that I hadn't taken any medication for my malfunctioning gland for several days.  It explained a lot. 

Thursday (day 4) was an entirely different experience.  I was back to my normal, high energy self.  I did not struggle with the lethargy or even the hunger throughout the day.  It pays to have the right amount of hormone.  Also, it pays to have the wherewithal to remember that you need it. 

And then THIS happens... this wide awake in the wee hours of the morning - it's now 2:46 AM.  The way I see it, it's the powers-that-be tapping the keg of my creative and reflective juices.

Good thing I forgot the "Jet Fuel" today... er yesterday.  ("Jet Fuel" is a term of endearment for 2 oz of fresh apple juice, 2 tb of apple cider vinegar, 1/8 tsp of cinnamon, and dash of cayenne pepper; drink as a quick shot).  That stuff is like drinking a quick punch in the throat followed by elation and perma-grins.  It assists with digestion, absorption of lactic acid (good for the sore muscles), and overall health of the body.  In addition, it will wake up the dead parts of your soul, and you may find that you accomplish more in the 8 hour work day than you thought possible because for some reason vinegar makes you invincible and enables the growth of extra arms.  It's THAT good.

Tomorrow's... TODAY's work out should be interesting.  Luckily, it's a holiday and our normal 6 AM work out shindig has been moved to 9 AM.  See, even the tree huggers like to sleep in every once in a while.  The eluding of sleep at - 3:02 AM - has nothing to do with it I'm sure. 

And where the hell is this hurricane Arthur anyway?  I took the dogs outside and felt a gentle breeze at best.  The trees looked glorious in their gentle sway up against the cloudy moonlit sky.  I did not encounter any gnashing of teeth from the ever so fluid Mother Nature.  She does what she wants.  I like her.

Provided the weather holds out, today's work out will be a mini-triathlon of sorts with swimming in the river, biking and running.  Unless it's monsoon-ing at 9 AM, that's the plan.  I can't think of a better way to start 'Merica's birthday... at 3:06 AM.  =)

Turning Over a New (Kale) Leaf

It's 6:51 pm of day 2.  I have committed myself to a physical and dietary challenge that, up until 5 hours ago, I thought was going to be a moderately easy shift.  With the ideal attitude, it moderately is.  But for me, this challenge is more than exercise and nutrition.  This challenge hits at my core self-care struggles... taking the time to care for me.  In addition, it's about taking the time to say "Hey Rachel, you're worth the effort." 

I have been honestly successful for a totality of 24+ hours. 

Exercise: I am dedicated to waking up each morning to participate in 60 minutes of physical exertion.  This includes jogging, strength training, calisthenics and general breaking a sweat.  I am privileged to have a little "tribe" which does this with me.  Laura Stevens, a recently certified personal trainer (and belly dancer and paralegal and planner extraordinaire) also happens to be a best friend.  Part of the privilege is that I get to be a "guinea pig", a willing participant in this challenge to watch and experience how my body will change with her guidance and instruction. 

The "tribe" consists of Pat (Laura's mom), Jordan (Laura's brother) and Melissa (Laura's sister-in-law and consequentially another best friend).  So in short, this portion of the challenge is likened to a family-affair.  And it's a great way to start my day.  We encourage one another, help one another, and thus far - my uber morning-personess has been gently accepted by my more I-want-to-be-sleeping counterparts. 

The exercise typically happens outdoors; in local green spaces.  We deal with the elements and the challenges brought by mother nature and her landscape.  We run and frolic through streets and fields while others are still wiping the sleep from their eyes.  For me, it's a sacred space... with a lot of built up lactic acid. 

Which brings me nicely to my next point: Nutrition
Having dabbled with vegetarianism in the recent past, I oscillated back and forth about food choices.  I am an emotional eater; have been since elementary school.  And from this created a host of other body-image issues.  Gaining weight, losing weight - it didn't really matter because the underlying remained the same.  My body image, in many respects, defined my sense of worth. 

This is not news to many people.  And I am far from unique in this plight.  Yet I yearned to address it in a way other than diet foods, diet plans or just starving myself.  For example, at the age of 23 not only did I weight-lift 5 days a week, I also did an hour of intense cardio 6 days a week.  I consumed 1200 calories/day.  While I was fit, I wasn't healthy. 

The nature of my calories came from processed and pre-packaged.  It's convenient to just add up numbers in your head with less regard to the actual fuel being put into the body.  Diet sodas, lean cuisines and pork rinds, I have learned, is likened to putting used car oil in the gas tank.  It might run, but it ain't gonna last.  The amount of sodium, preservatives and other unpronounceable items in this "food" is vastly linked to various cardiovascular diseases, digestive diseases... hell, maybe even emotional imbalances.  

This time around, I'm utilizing not only the exercise, but the education on how to best fuel my needs.  Having dabbled in vegetarianism in the past, I decided to go full hog this time and just eat plant-based items.  It sounds terrible doesn't it?  Leaves and carrots and mediocrity.  No flavor or fun. 

So far I have not found that to be true.  What I have discovered so far, however, is that it takes more preparation that I'm used to.  Confession: I'm lazy.  When it comes to eating, I just wanna grab something and eat it.  I don't want to think about it, or cook it or chop up stuff.  I. Just. Want. To. Eat.

This is the most challenging shift for me.  Now, I am thinking about it, chopping it, preparing it, seasoning it, packing it, etc.  I am actually taking the time to do this for myself.  This is probably the most important shift of all.  And I'm eating with consciousness and intention now... not out of boredom or emotional influx... but out of the actual desire to fuel my body (and consequentially mind and soul).

• Disclaimer 1: Yes I know this is only day 2 and the challenges remain ahead of me.  But if I'm feeling optimistic I'm going to go for it.  So there.

• Disclaimer 2: I in no way, shape or form am a plant-Nazi.  I bear no judgment on those who eat meat or dairy.  I support the belief of personal choice and have no desire in nutritional dogma or fundamental conversion to see things the way I do.  Quite frankly, I am not even sure how I see things yet. 

Already I sense the changes, subtle though they may be.  I would like to "talk" about it... here... so I will post updates as I can.  I don't even know if anyone will read them.  It feels good to write it though. 

My ultimate goal is to be healthy regardless of the weight.  And part of that goal is 50 pounds of junk melting away from my bones and muscles.  I say bring it on.  I'll let you know how it goes.

Life Lessons of Nags Head, NC

1. Redefined Relaxation

It's simple really... the idea of just being and not feeling any external or internal pull of duty or responsibility.  To experience immunity from the "I should _______"  thought process is likened to experiencing peace.  But for this inwardly high strung individual, it's a concept I have grappled with since childhood.  And yet, for the entirety of this past week, I found myself sitting... a lot... with little motivation to do anything else.  I had no desire to exercise.  No desire to walk down to the beach


For those who feel led, you can build me one of these.

more than 3 times, and hardly any motivation to think for myself.  My butt was perpetually glued to a solid surface in the lounging position from which I would participate in conversation, eat, drink and breathe.  When I felt frisky I would walk down to the pool and commence to sitting.  There were moments of internal questioning: "What IS this?  Where is my drive? My ambition??"  But they were fleeting and promptly commenced to sitting.

2. Cornhole is Not for Sissies

It's important, when playing a glorified bean bag toss, to remember the score throughout the game.  Only, this requires physical movement to play as well as mental fortitude to remember the purpose of keeping score.  When playing pool-side especially, it's important to practice balance and aim, so as

not to almost fall in to the otherwise refreshing water.  Focus is equally important.  Don't let the music blaring in the background distract you with the need to express yourself through dance; Particularly when it's still your "go".  This proved to be frustrating to the more serious players, and entertaining to the less competitive.  It was a confusing experience.  I only played once. 

3. The Sun is Nondiscriminatory

I donned no bathing suit.  I stuck to the comfort of t-shirts and capris leggings.  Partially because I didn't really have a bathing suit and because I physically feel like a bowling ball with legs.  I kept it covered for my own sense of ease.  But the sun doesn't care about all of that.  Bare ankle?  Exposed
ear?  The sun will zap it, leaving you with unforeseen tan lines to make you feel more awkward than you already do. 

Dude. That sucks.

4. Vacation is Timeless

An entire week devoted to not giving a crap also means that time doesn't have to apply either.  I lost track of time a lot.  Perhaps it's the gentle lull of the tide or the hypnotic breeze with the music of the sea gulls... but time played tricks on me.  I have no watch.  And I would check my phone every once that.


Yep.  This is me.

in a while.  Generally speaking I had no idea.  And it felt lovely.  My work week is defined by time, schedules, appointments, meetings... time management is the back bone of working efficiently for me.  This week, I managed no time.  I worried about no appointments or meetings.  I only had to manage myself, and I hardly did

5. Vacation is Ageless

I forgot how old I was.  Literally.  Someone helped me do the math because I forgot my age.  I was shocked to remember that I am 35.  Stunned, I poured another drink.

Well played Nags Head.  Well played.

Until next time. 

So I auditioned for a band...

...and it was sort of by accident.  I was gently nudged to give it a try after a day of "filling in" due to a no-show for the band's practice session.  No pressure attached, just sing the melody... hum it if I have to.  Why not?  I've always been a closet rock-star.

And then I was asked to consider an audition.  Perhaps it was the wine I was sipping on at the time.  Maybe it was that little edge of courage that magically appears when alcohol hits the bloodstream.  But the words that came out of my mouth affirmed the invitation.  I acquiesced to the request. 

Public speaking comes easily to me.  I officiate weddings and funerals.  I have spoken on topics at various conferences and provide educational presentations to folks in the community.  There is no issue of stage fright here. 

The staggering difference is the medium... it's a matter of speaking vs. singing.  My speaking voice is clear, intentional and robust.  My singing voice is... er... not bad.  I can harmonize with the best of them.  But singing feels so naked to me.  It's so vulnerable.  I get shaky and shy when it's an "Okay Rachel is going to sing" sort of situation. 

"Rock Band" doesn't count.  Everyone is doing their own thing and trying to win a stinking game.  Filling in for an absentee singer on the fly doesn't count either.  Don't ask why.  It just doesn't for some reason that only makes sense to me.

It's the intentional walking up to the mic for the sole purpose of hearing what I sound like as a singer.  It completely freaks me out. 

However, I faced the fear... had another glass of wine or two, and did just that.  The experience went as follows:

• You Oughta Know by Alanis Morrisette:  not too shabby if I don't say so myself.  It was a song of my youth so I was very familiar with the lyrics and the over all feel.  This felt fun to me.  And yes, I said THE word.
• Are You Gonna Go My Way by Lenny Kravitz:  warming up... feeling like karaoke.  And then it dawns on me, I can hear myself.  Suddenly freaking out.  That's MY voice and I'm freaking out.
• I'm The Only One by Melissa Etheridge:  ah jeez this one... I don't have a growly voice or a very bluesy one.  I required an additional glass of wine to even attempt this.  My voice is a little breathy at times and I don't have a huge range.  Singing this song made me feel like one of those 6 year olds in the school chorus performance that keeps twirling around on the risers.  I can't even PRETEND to mimic the original singer's prowess and Janis-Joplin-y gruffy gruff. 
• Gunpowder and Lead by Miranda Lambert: two words - NAILED IT.  Even though I felt like I was yelling the majority of the chorus, I still sounded kind of like Miranda.  I don't know how she yells like that for hours on end. 
• Hit Me With Your Best Shot by Pat Benatar: Uh... super FUN!  And it was double-fun to watch Adam (the drummer) play this and seem like he was enjoying him some Benatar.  It's a karaoke classic, so that's what I pretended I was doing.  It got me through.

All around, it was a great experience.  I got to enjoy a lovely evening with some super cool people.  I felt like a pseudo rock star for an hour and even broke a sweat.  I didn't get to do the whole pick up the mic stand thing and gyrate around like Steven Tyler, but I still got to see what it felt like to be THE voice of the song.  It was scary and exhilarating.  I'm glad I got that out of my system.

No, I didn't get the part. 

I was first runner up. 

I'll take it. 

I think I'll keep my super rock star status on the down low for now, and simply cheer on the band from the comfort of the dance floor with wine in tow.  I'm grateful that I tried it on, zipped it up, and know what it feels like for a minute just before I want to vomit.

Thank you to the brave souls who encouraged me to give a try.  And I did.  I hit it with MY best shot, and fired away.  Bucket list is one notch smaller.  Next stop: Living Room Blue Grass Band.  C'mon guys, we got this.