Life got a little stressful this week. I self-medicated with brownies. Too much sugar makes it hard for me to handle stress. So more brownies. After which, daily happenings that normally are not stressful feel catastrophic to me. Thus fueling the need for more brownies. And so on and so forth until I spend a long night crying about my stressful life and my brownie-bloated body. I wake up the next morning with bloated eyes to match bloated body. Nothing fits now because in a wave of optimism I gave away my fat jeans a few months ago, assuming I would never be riding the 150 plus pound wave again. So here I am feeling a little strung out on sugar and wearing uncomfortably tight jeans on a bloated body. Let's just call this eating rock bottom and go up from here, shall we?
Do you have a family that becomes truly barbaric when a large pan of brownies sits on the stove? Do they skip the whole civilized act of cutting and serving brownies in lieu of a couple of forks in the pan? Do they leave the forks in the pan so that anytime anyone walks through the kitchen they can pick up a fork and take a stab at the pan and chew up the brownies on the way to somewhere else, effectively leaving a Hansel and Gretel trail throughout the house? Does the enormous pan of brownies disappear, forkful by forkful, at an alarmingly fast rate and everyone assumes that someone else is eating most of it? Does your family consume brownies like that? Well, thank goodness, neither does mine!
But other than those bad news brownies, everything is great! I'm
getting psyched to start another attempt at my 30-day raw food
experiment. This time I'm going to be gentle on myself and remind
myself that this is NOT a diet. This is a celebration of the miraculous abundance we have of delicious, healing foods. There is no bandwagon to fall off of. No amount self loathing will be
tolerated. (Thank you, Cindy, for that.) This is not about what I CAN'T
eat but about what I WANT to eat. This is a powerful way for me to
nourish my body and help me to reach my best place- physically,
emotionally and spiritually. A place I love, love, love being in. A
place full of calm, loving feelings and great skin. Produce shopping
here I come.
10/13/2012
10/07/2012
Havasupai Falls
Incredible and so worth the effort to get there
Years ago, Audrey and her friends hiked down to the falls in the Grand Canyon. The pictures she took of beautiful waterfalls and dream-like blue green water captivated me. I am drawn to almost any type of water, but Havasupai whispered my name in a powerful way. I vowed to go. I envied the fact that she took all these fun trips while I was tied down with a family business and numerous small children. Even though I knew I could take three days from my life if I HAD to, I never did. Responsibilities and inconvenience to others weighed heavily while making plans.
Havasu Falls-another time, another photographer
Last January, without the family business or dependent little people to factor in, we made a plan. I booked a couple nights in March at the Havasupai Lodge and arranged to meet Audrey for my long awaited adventure to the magical waters. But, a month before our scheduled departure I changed the plan so I could join Brandon in California on one of his business trips. I called the lodge and booked the next two nights available which wasn’t until the end of September.
Audrey knows I am unreliable and flaky (I prefer spontaneous to an inconvenient degree) in all matters of fun activities and was undaunted. She merely kept my original reservation (they are hard to get) invited some of her friends and went without me. She returned with fabulous photos and threatened me with unspeakable consequences if I should dare to cancel on her AGAIN! (Hey Auddie, I’m still sorry about blowing off the reunion after I talked you into going.) Suzy had scheduled two days off which is stressful because of all the work that awaits her when she returns. (The disadvantage of being so good at your job, Soupie.) I knew I had to either go in September or consider myself officially orphaned.
I’m talking about a place I’ve wanted to visit for years so why did I need pressure to go in the first place? Doesn’t seem to make sense, does it? I am indeed a mysterious woman, just ask hubby. He is still searching for the manual. Maybe after a few hundred hours of counseling I’ll know more. But for now I do know this:
Whenever I plan a trip or a fun activity that requires any degree of effort I always start out super excited. I consider myself an adventurous person. Then as the day draws closer I remember all the negatives about how sometimes traveling sucks. I remember changing diapers in airport bathrooms, vomit, messed up sleeping schedules, poopy blankies at the beginning of a long trip. When my children were young we lived overseas and I took them back and forth across the globe numerous times. All the hardships of traveling with babies has made me dislike traveling. Even if there are no more crying babies to take.
Lately I hate driving for more than an hour because my broken down body complains. The start of the hike is a six or seven hour drive from my house.
The biggie is that I feel guilty when I leave because when I’m gone the teenagers live on waffles and video games. Before that it was about how small babies don’t understand why mommy isn’t there. I have a huge of list of reasons why I don't need to have fun.
The hike/climb/caving and ladder adventure required to get to Mooney Falls
I tell myself that I can just enjoy photos of where ever I’m going from the comfort of my own home. Or read a really good book about the place written by someone who has already been there. Talk about efficient! I love efficiency, it’s one of my favorite hobbies. Who really needs to go? I could save the traveling money and spend it on a good cause. I could feed the hungry and clothe the naked or feed the naked and clothe the hungry or... you get the idea. By now, most of you are probably encouraging me to go ahead and start in on those hundreds of hours of necessary counseling. Or wishing I would just stop rambling. Or both. So, I will finish this post by saying: go to the falls. Google it if you don’t have a sister/tour guide who’s been there numerous times. There are lots of helpful people in the land of internet. Get in shape to hike. Save your pennies or write it off as therapy. Whatever! It’s worth the trouble. And let me know when you’re going cause I’d love to return.
One of Sandi’s observations: If you never find a way to go skinny dipping in the real world (bathtubs and backyard pools don’t count) your life is incomplete. Let me rephrase in case you didn’t get that. Go skinny dipping or live an unfinished life. Just don't get yourself arrested.
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