Meditation exercises

A couple days ago, I listened to about ten minutes of the intro session of a webinar class about finding your "truth" and awakening to your life's purpose:

"Imagine a parallel life in a parallel universe and yourself there..." the speaker cooed. It's about "repatterning your brain, mind, psych systems...as a kind of happiness...beyond imagination...creating new patterns in the brain...creating new possibilities in the real existential world...get off the same old same old and the narrow band of consciousness you now inhabit. You put your dreams on hold for so long that you get bored/disgusted/frustrated with yourself...but its never too late! Put yourself in a state of yearning, as in 'somewhere over the rainbow'...longing...grow your capacities for being..."

It was interesting. It also related to other pieces of information and wisdom floating around lately, such as 'you are what you think' and 'what you think about, expands'.

Yesterday felt fresh. Or was it Saturday? Change is most definitely upon me. My whole being feels different. I find myself at the cross-roads of several forces. Medication, connection through program (OA), and counseling. And also, the efforts of my husband to change and face his own demons. We live in a co-dependent microcosm where we are both so wrapped up in each other's lives.

I notice as I gain a bit of freedom from compulsive eating, my need to control spreads out from food and exercise. Mainly, to my husband, because he is the closest thing in reach of my voice. I find myself getting pettily annoyed at situations and circumstances that I can normally let go of. Dirty counters. Untidiness. Is this how I am without food? Needing more order in my environment? Or am I simply transferring my need to control over to another issue.

This morning, he went to a mediation group for veterans. Quietly and calmly, he told me about it when I got home from work. "The topic was acceptance; I know you know about that," he said, nodding his head towards me. [Acceptance is the key to 12 step programs...well, along with surrender and willingness] "Tell me anyway" I replied.

He related the meditation practice they went through. Sitting with your back against a chair, try to meditate on the sensation of the chair against your back until the physical feeling disappears. What happens? You can't do it. Or, it becomes increasingly difficult. For me, the chair became more pronounced, and I experienced mental and physical discomfort trying to think and feel anything else; pretty dresses, the feeling of my toes in the carpet, sex. Nothing worked. The second part is to try again, but allow yourself to meditate only on the sensation of your back against the chair. And see what happens. For me? My back and the chair became one, and I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

The more you try and shut out a feeling or situation, the more pronounced it becomes, even uncomfortable. However, allow the feeling or situation to be present in your mind, accept it, and its resolution will be more natural, after a space of time.

Another metaphor: you are having a family reunion. There is one aunt, Aunt Ida, who you can't STAND. She belittles you, causes discord, eats all the food, and drinks too much. The gathering is underway. She knocks at the door. You have two options. Do you lock the door and grip the handle and hold it tight against what you imagine to be the headache on the other side? Imagine actually doing this. She would probably bang and scream and kick to be let in. The other family members would be uncomfortable and drift into corners or leave. The party would be over. The second choice? Let her in. Welcome her politely, and let her run her move through the house unobstructed, running her course. Accept she is a part of your family, that you can't do anything about it. Fighting the truth will only make things worse. The sooner she gets in and makes her scene, the sooner she will leave. Delay it, and you only delay what is inevitable.

When an emotion or sense of pain/agitation/anxiety rises, let it come. Allow it to work its way through your body. Accept it, and it will pass. Fight it, and it will become harder and harder to resist, until it is so uncomfortable and in your face, you have to deal with it, and by then, its a shit storm of an issue/problem.

Meditation - online guided mantras and music

This is cool! I would recommend it. Just listened to the one for today, "Protection" and fell into sort of a relaxed trance state, sitting on the couch with my cup of coffee, closing my eyes and letting the pretty music sooth my grumpiness and fill me instead with a soft energy...

http://www.mentorschannel.com/Bestsellers/LandingPage.aspx?BookId=40&af=976&utm_source=EW+blast&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=EvolvingWisdom

Prozac and Tapping

Deep breaths...deeeep breaths...

Thank the mighty calendar that it is Friday. Oh Friday, I haven't felt this way about you since high school. After that, college days became nights and nights became full of booze, and the time of day of the week only mattered for reasons of traffic and classes. Even after a stint in Americorps working a regular 9-5, the weekends were just a "place" to pass the time. And for the past year and a half of my certification program for teaching, the weekdays and weekend sort of melded together because of the amount of homework to be completed. Now, the weekend is the gasp of breath I take in between swimming lengths underwater as I attempt to wade through the weeds of student teaching.

This week: prozac and tapping. Tuesday night was hell, because of the double observation plus filming I had on Wednesday. I also had a doctor's appointment where I was prescribed anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medications.  I felt conflicting emotions leaving the pharmacy with the clicky-clack of the pills shaking in their clear orange tubes. I felt a deep sigh of relief that this may provide just the same as that breath. But also skepticism, as always, of this sort of thing. Skepticism as to, "do I really need this?" and "will this actually do anything for me...will this work or just put strange chemicals in my body?".

It's interesting (maybe another word would be more appropriate here), how after 10 years of struggling with this eating disorder and the fear and anxiety and psychological issues that go along with it, something in me (the disease most likely) puts a seed of doubt in my mind when it comes to any sort of help outside my own mind. I have seen enough hard proof from counseling sessions, and felt the effects of a good solid talk and meditative search, to weed out the distrustful thoughts that sprout up around the benefits of paying someone to sit and chat with me. Therefore, I feel mostly comfortable with the new lady I am seeing (covered my by insurance, whew) and even cooler - she works through Tapping! A really cool technique. I've dabbled in it since discovering it on the web a little less than a year ago. Check it out:

http://www.thetappingsolution.com/how-to-tap.php

http://www.tapping.com/

...?!

Tears today. Twice. Both times in my car. I seem to cry there a lot now. Full on, knees to chest, head bowed, terrified tears of pain and confusion. 

Fear leads to anxiety. Through my years, to cope, I would numb out by turning to denial (compulsive eating) or apathy or conversely try to control the situation/my environment with perfection (restricting food or purging after binging with exercise). Denial, apathy and control. These have been my tools.

So much crying now!

Program feels like a ‘detox’ right now. First, the toxins are released in your blood stream. My bottled emotions and fears are now coursing through my veins. I feel like crap. Full of anger and sadness, negativity, with a short fuse. I am hurt at the loss of my ‘best friend’ (compulsive eating and purging) which was also my answer to everything, my way of understanding and relating to the world around me. I am lost now that I realize my whole reality is false.

Progress? I asked for help today. Perfectionism and pride kept me from asking for help in the past. Being told I was the best and perfect growing up inflated my little ego which held the false assumption that I could do anything on my own. I really can't do anything on my own right now. That's how I feel. Complete opposite end of the spectrum. DEflated. Incapable. Small. Helpless. Oh God, that food is calling to me, a sweet siren song of "blissful" extremely temporary relief. The satisfying crunch of a tortilla chip that could be akin to the satisfaction of kicking your mortal enemy in the face and hearing their bones crunch. Yes, this is where I am right now. Craving violence. Craving a release of energy. How the fuck did I ever come to this place where I decided that gnashing my teeth together was the solution?? The solution to everything?? BRAGLLLEEEFARRRFFFIIDDDGGICKLE...I imagine myself a giant viking like man in a bear cloak with thunder crashing and lighting bolting in the background...not the sexiest war cry, but it's how I feel. Silly. Stupid. Angry. 

Phone call, poi and protein bars...

The roller-coaster of one single day...

Woke up to BRIGHT light, after a strange dream...felt a bit like I was still in a place of reverie when I opened my eyes. The bedroom was so lit by the rising sun. If only that sun would drench our ever shaded little patio area, instead of the bedroom at 6 am. Had to wake up an hour later, so I tossed a pillow over my head and tried to doze. More strange half-sleeping dreams chased me groggily out of bed.

Put on a "tough-girl" mask on my heart as I got dressed. Not caring seems to help me get through the day. Seemed like it was a successful solution, until my cooperating teacher pulled me aside as school ended, shook his head and told me I needed to plan better. "They ate you alive today". "I'm thinking about going back to nannying," I retorted, with a sideways glance, half shrug, and cross between a snort and sigh. Bubbles of anger begin to rise to the surface.

They continue through grocery shopping, the most haphazard one in a long time. I had a list, but also tossed things in the cart with abandon. Spent over the limit of what I had hoped the till would total. Pulling into the driveway, I slid up the windows, turned up the electronic music station loud, pulled my knees to my chest and let the sunshine wash over me until my cheeks were hot. It was semi-calming. Passively aggressive  I put away all the groceries while my husband slept on the couch, through the cupboard banging and paper bag crumpling. Then, I made some phone calls. I paced in the neighbors patch of cement, drenched in afternoon sunlight (its always sunny over there; though abandoned too - the fairy house in the small garden area is choked with weeds and the curtains are drawn behind a set of venetian blinds missing ivory pieces like a 1st grader's smile). This helped dull the throbbing in my chest, head and heart. Then, I put on my man's tee-shirt, picked up my poi, set up my laptop and spun for about 10-15 minutes. This also helped. But wasn't good enough.

The next step was a meeting. I turned on an episode of Once Upon a Time instead and then had a beer and scarfed down some pasta. And more. And other things. Ending with three "protein bars" (glorified candy bars). The last one was disgusting, but I was in the "oh, well, its in my hand and I might as well finish it" phase.

Attempting to calm my burbling stomach with hot water now. And get work done for tomorrow. Ha.

God, oh God, where art thou?

There is no where to run.
There is no escape.
Eventually life catches up with you.
And you realize how little and small you are.
And how much you have to learn,
About yourself,
About those people you knew judged
About life's rules and terms.
I don't want to.
I don't want to hurt.
I don't want to cry anymore.
I don't want to be face to face with my character defects,
every day.
And feelings! Oh boy.
Don't get me started.
Feelings suck.

That's how I feel right now. Pouty. Cynical.

Sighing at this inevitable state I'm in, in order to reach a more compassionate and joyful state. I have to trek through the mire that is the shit I caked on myself throughout my life.

By hiding, procrastination, pretending.

I don't want to be grown up. But I can't remain in Never-never land anymore. They kicked me out a couple weeks ago. I'm crying and clawing at the exit door.

I forgot how much I adore books

Time is a luxury, and being of the no-income bracket, I spent the past seven days of vacation sprawled out, curled up, indoors, outdoors with books. BOOKS! What magical creatures that can set your mind to spinning and take your brain and heart and - if you're lucky - spirit places that you couldn't fathom on your own. A week of reading has reminded me, I do have a brain! I can think! Deep thoughts! It's been a while...

How to Be a Woman by Caitlin Moran [2011], is one such paperback I am currently devouring. I'm about half way through, and it's like no book I have ever read. I've never really been much into autobiographies, but I realize now it's because I have never read them! This book will shock you, perhaps bore you at parts, have you cringing, and make you burst out loud in  barks of laughter. I highly recommend it.

The last chapter I just finished was about Fat. With a capital F. With unapologetic flair, Moran takes us through her experience of growing up female, piecemeal. This chapter was dedicated to her experience of fatness as a teenager. She finishes the section with a brilliant essay on what being Fat means and exposes the ridiculousness of the perception of compulsive overeating being farcical and absurd compared to that of other addictions or compulsive behaviors (drugs, alcohol, sex). Why do people flagrantly expose, and even boast, of their misdeeds with narcotics and booze and f***ing ("Wow, I got SMASHED last night and woke up with a stranger, naked) but furtively hide any evidence or trace of excessive consumption of food? If we talked about our food behaviors,

"Then people would be able to address your dysfunction as openly as they do all the others. They could reply, 'Whoa, dude. Maybe you should calm it down on the high GI-load carbs for a bit, my friend  You have gone a bit bongo-mondo. I am the same. I did a three-hour session on the microwave lasagna last night. Perhaps we should go out to the country for abit. Get our heads together. Clean up our act." (p.113)

Disordered eating for me is about secrecy and isolation, from my own consciousness and others. However, the more I can push at the the precarious pedestal that is my pride, by sharing my experience and admitting my actions, the closer it will be to tumbling to the ground in pieces. And that's what I need. My pride to be blown to bits. So I can regain a sense of humility in my fallibility as a human. So I can regain the knowledge and wisdom that I NEED other people, to connect with, to help me, to offer help to them.