And still losing…

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It’s been a long time since I posted. Back in May I had lost almost 40 lbs. Fast forward four and some odd months and I have lost 44 lbs. and am still going for another 5 or so. I feel great, not only because of the weight loss but also because my body is beginning to feel better. My knees don’t hurt, I don’t get out of breath as much and to my shock and joy, I am now officially “overweight” rather than “obese”.

I know very well that we are in the days of fat acceptance and I applaud that. But I also know that for me personally, carrying all that weight on a small frame without much height to boot was not good for me or for my ego.

I notice I am kinder to people who struggle to continue. It has not always been easy, but when I forget to track or go off the beaten track, I tend to gain and not feel good. I am glad that I have lots of NSV’s and I am very happy for that. Best wishes to all of you struggling out there. One thing that has kept me going is asking myself “what will happen if I just don’t give up this time?” I am learning the answer. It’s all good!

Weighing Thoughts

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My progress on WW has been very good this time around. I am committed to seeing it through to maintenance. I hope it happens in 2023. Mid year would be fine but end of the year will be just as savory.

I have chosen this mindset to stick with because eating is something we all must do to stay alive. Calories in and calories out will always be the answer regardless of what plan we follow. For me, WW is the only option. I am really happy with the changes they have implemented over the years, especially for people following the plan for the first time. Gone are the words that were used in the past to make us feel guilty for indulging our sweet tooth. The resources for support are everywhere and while the accountability will always rest with the individual, the more one engages socially, the better the overall outcome.

My participation in WW groups has increased my feelings of connection. I not only receive feedback, I often give some. When I was a younger person, I delighted in being the person others looked to for answers to things. It made me happy to provide comfort to the confused or inquisitive. As I’ve gotten older, I participate less and less because I see that time if flying and that my own projects often end on the back burner because I am busy doing others’ things. If I don’t take my projects seriously then I can’t expect other people to do so, can I?

When I turned 60, I became more ambitious for myself. Perhaps too much. I decided I wanted to take guitar lessons. I decided I wanted to write a proper book. I decided I wanted to devote time to family-tree investigations. I decided I wanted to become an expert in both African violets and orchids. All this on top of being part of the board of directors of the local nursing home, taking care of the housekeeping at home, visiting my father on a weekly basis, and just life in general.

Fast forward 7 years (minus a couple for covid-related restrictions) and here is where I am: took lessons for 3-4 years and haven’t even touched my guitar for a couple. My “work” on the book is piecemeal and not very impressive though I have attended a writers’ conference that I enjoyed a lot. The family tree work is going okay; I will be taking a course in March to learn to properly conduct the research. My plants are not dead but they aren’t going to win any competitions either. I did extricate myself from the board of directors (yay!).

Today, I begin anew with a fresh outlook. I’ll be posting updates regularly. Stay tuned!

Commitments

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Commitments made and not honored rank high on my list of pet peeves. As it is a pretty long list, the fact that it ranks high is significant. The reality of my own recent inability to fulfill my writing commitments irritates me. Becoming irritated is not going to solve anything at this moment, let’s just let that pass.

I am writing here today because I don’t want the month of October to be over without having at least one blog entry to show for it. My month has been like everyone else’s: filled with some sadness at the limitations we have had to contend with during the last 2 years and the ones that will come up during the next couple of months as we head into 2023.

As I sit and review the 10 months of 2022, I want to make full use of my focus as I sharpen my thinking to discern what actions I need to take to measure up to the goals I had set for myself in the beginning of the year. I have done remarkably well in the priority goal which was to lose 25 lbs. I am at a loss of 24.1 lbs and should certainly reach my first goal before year’s end. I had not fully committed to the WW plan until July when I purchased a brand-new, ultra-modern scale. The initial shock came as I realized that I actually weighed about 7 lbs. more than I had thought. I took my time (and patience) to update all of my data to reflect the new and worrisome truth. Since then, I have done my best to remind myself at each meal what my aspiration was: see where it led me if I didn’t give up. I am glad I followed through. This morning I was very pleased with the number on the scale even though I am still considered “obese” by purely metrical standards. It’s okay. For today, I accept and will continue to follow the program as best I can for optimum results.

I won’t make any promises about the future (regarding my weight or my writing) but I do hope to reach the many of you who continue to support my site.

Growing my Orchid Collection

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I used to be very intimidated by orchids. The first couple I was given died almost immediately after they were left in my care. I admitted to anyone brave enough to gift me a plant that I was more of an African Violet expert, something I could prove year after year when I shared snapshots of my hardy and plentiful varieties. Something happened in 2017.

That was the year I began my tenure as the treasurer of our local Nursing Home. At an event honoring the board of directors, I was given a robust flowering orchid. I was immediately taken aback but this was a new group of people I had recently met, and I didn’t feel comfortable admitting my fear of failure to them. I made a decision. I asked myself what would happen if instead of giving up without trying, I actually put some effort into it? Research led me to learn a few things that I could observe about my plant before tossing in the towel.

Attention paid to anything usually pays off. I am proud today to say that from my 2017 orchid I have been able to ‘birth’ a second one and I have added four more to my collection. They are all flowering right now and I am now so immersed in this hobby I am asking my husband to come with me to an orchid nursery so he can help me carry a few more varieties I would like to try out.

I have come a long way and I am very pleased with my growth. Sometimes giving up is simply not in the cards. I am glad I persevered.

What a Difference a Smile Makes

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I went to the supermarket after my hairdresser’s today. What a difference to see all the shoppers smiling. At first I didn’t realize that being mask-less was the reason everything felt different. I think it is the first time in 2 1/2 years that I have been out in public and noticed that very few people were wearing masks.

I was not one of them.

I don’t know what to think anymore or who to ask about whether or not the CDC recommendations are worth anything these days. Did I really hear that there is supposed to be some kind of reorganization there? Did I make that up? No, I just researched it and it seems that a revamping of the 12,000 employee institution will take place soon.

My upbringing taught me to doubt the people in charge. I don’t think my parents were very vocal about it but one can always tell which way parents think by observing their behavior. My mother was not the type to buy us pills to ingest whenever we had a headache. She was the kind to offer a cup of unsweetened black tea and saltines as a remedy. Having that unpalatable cure made getting sick less enticing. I knew where she was going with that “reverse” psychology and I admit I did similar stuff to my kids so they wouldn’t depend on outside cures but instead try alternative solutions like breathing, resting or meditating. I am not sorry I did it; to this day my kids avoid taking anything for pain if they can stand it.

But I digress. Seeing the smiles and recognizing people was a very welcome event. I have not had my fourth shot yet but I think I will do it because if nothing else, I will feel psychologically protected as I go about my days. We are slowly returning to “normal” and “normal” in our town means smiling, greeting, sharing hopes and news. And that makes all the difference between a good day and a great day.

Follow Me for Accountability!

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I was that kid in English class who others loved to hate. I loved, loved, loved diagramming sentences. Yup, that’s how old I am! My thoughts these days when I edit another person’s work is to be silently shocked by the many errors and horrors that happen to the English language. It’s one thing to speak informally but when we are writing, it really doesn’t help (me at least) the story flow if I encounter mistakes that could have been avoided if the writer were not too lazy to be bothered.

Some years ago, I bought a book that was so filled with misspellings and other sins that no matter how interesting the story was, I could not finish it. The friend I bought it from ($16.95 plus tax) was the moderator of our “writers’ group” and very proud of his first creation. It was not the genre I read for pleasure (dystopian) but in order to encourage his efforts I did my part. When he enthusiastically asked me my opinion, I confessed I didn’t get far because of the editing I wanted to do…he was not amused.

Years passed and between his poor health and my many on-going projects, we lost contact. I later learned that he had so many complaints, he decided to edit and re-publish his book. I thought I should have heard from him, that he would give me a free copy since I had already paid full price but that didn’t happen. I look at the book from time to time, sitting unread on my bookshelf. He sadly passed away last year and I don’t know what to do with the book, to be honest, I don’t like to throw out books but I know that I won’t read it.

Life these days seems surreal. Every day some new event in the news will make me pause and thank the heavens I still have my sanity, if you will. I continue to pursue my goals but in the back of my mind I do often ask myself if all the things I am accomplishing (decluttering mainly) will really matter in the end. I just don’t want to leave complicated messes for my children to have to clean up. Maybe getting rid of some of these “I will never read” books is a good place to start. I continue with my “health” plan. I confess that I am a little hungrier this week than last week but I am looking forward to getting on the scale on Sunday and seeing some progress.

Follow me for accountability!

Time Really Does Get Away

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I last wrote in this blog on March 25th. I had been writing pretty regularly, like once a week. Then at the suggestion of one of my writer group members, I decided to sign up for a paid membership to Medium.com. I believe it was the wrong decision for me. Fortunately the investment was only $50 and the fee will allow me to read anything and everything on the site and also help other writers (for pennies a story) when I read and engage with what they write.

So far, I am less than thrilled. To be honest, almost every article follows a format that I now understand is meant to “capture” the algorithm to boost the author’s ability to get paid by enticing readers to click on them and read for at least 5 seconds. Really? Is that what it’s come to? Lots of readers, in an effort to help writers get some income, click on to article after article – not necessarily reading or getting anything out of them. That is so sad. I am really so disillusioned I no longer sign in every day. Do you know how many platforms are out there? So little time and so much to read. And then of course, we have real life to live too.

When Elon Musk declared his intention to purchase lots of Twitter, I quit the platform. I have gained a few hours in my day, time I could spend writing. I haven’t been writing that much more but I can honestly say that I have devoted some of that time to getting rid of paper clutter, not just moving the piles from one place to another! I feel good about that. Elon and Twitter got some negative feedback, now he feels like changing his mind. What can we say?

A few weeks ago, I received a friend request on Insta from a currently-popular actor whose posts I have often responded to. I don’t know how I could have entertained the idea that this request really came from this actor…I now suspect it came from my ex-husband who was a master stalker and even 38 years after our divorce continues to turn up mysteriously every year like that odd sock or bad penny regardless of the fact that we have had no communication since before our divorce. At first, I was flattered, probably on a day I had too much Chivas! I responded positively to the friend request and began to receive DM’s. The age difference between this actor and me is about 25 years (me his senior). He is married, has a career, has a child. What had I been thinking? Of course, this could not possibly be the real person, on location in an exotic place, DM’ing me? Come on. After I got over my embarrassment at having made such a colossal mistake, I unfriended the impostor and deleted our exchange (well, as much as one can these days). I continued to follow the actor’s verified account but this incident has left a bad taste in my mouth and I no longer engage.

Two days ago, I received another friend request from purportedly the same actor but with another account name. I blocked and deleted the request. I thought about reporting these two accounts but don’t want to devote any more time than writing about it here for mental health. I have recently admitted to myself (at 66!) that I have been a victim of narcissistic personality disorder abuse at various stages in my life. I have a pattern of letting people take advantage of me. My solution has been to become close to only a very limited circle which includes my second (and last!) husband, our amazing children and a few friends. It is a very sad admission but I feel that finally attaching a label to the behavior is a way that I can begin to heal and see whether or not in my remaining 30 years (God willing!) I can enjoy a life free from the toxicity of these bullies. I am very close to eliminating my Insta account too because I am being bombarded with way too many ads that target my interest in weight loss and well-being by suggesting liposuction, intermittent fasting, keto diets, etc. In other words, I feel like my ex-husband is not the only stalker. Who needs that?

Loyalty, Is It Overrated?

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Now that we have all had a chance to consider the effects Covid-19 has had on our social life and the changes we have experienced, we are being asked to return to life as we knew it. Looking at it from the perspective of business owners who probably owned massive amounts of real estate that is currently empty, one can sympathize why they would insist their employees come back to the office. It is not the same experience from the employees’ point of view and I, personally, can identify with both sides.

My initiation in the shipping industry began when I was 18. I had taken an entry-level job for the sole purpose of saving money until the Fall when I was going to begin my college career. After a few months, I realized how much I enjoyed the freedom of paying my own way in life. Pretty soon I began to think about other educational options that would allow me to continue to work. I settled on an Associate’s Degree in Secretarial Sciences at night. I loved the Secretarial Sciences, I never had ambitions to be “something more”. I made a very decent salary and I felt that my functions were essential to the smooth operation in our office. If I were in the working world today, I would call myself an Administrator but back then it was customary to do more than what you were getting paid to do and not complain because one was happy to have a job.

The shipping industry in which I worked tossed around the words “a following” when placing ads for recruiting people. I never understood what was meant by it until after the interviews were concluded and people were hired on the basis of their “following”. It occurred to me often that if the new hires did not work out (it happened), they would take their following with them to the next place. There was no loyalty to the company, the following’s loyalty was to the person who understood their needs and coddled them.

I have been blogging on WordPress for the last decade. Because my main focus has been to sit and write and therefore improve my writing, I have never paid that much attention to the importance of reaching out to try to get more people to follow me. When I looked at my various blogs and added how many followers I currently have, I admit I was a bit surprised to see that it is close to 1,000. I feel a certain responsibility to write regularly and I have been doing that but without too much feedback, it is hard to know whether what I write is reaching anyone.

I write with my readers in mind, an exercise that I find both limiting and illuminating. This writing circumstance is something that I am now exploring over on Medium.com where I have recently become a paying member. My reasons for starting off as a paying member were to support writers like myself but I also thought I would be participating in getting some income. To my disappointment, before I can even sign up for the participating plan, I need to have at least 100 followers on Medium. I think I have 8! In order to import some of my followers from WP into Medium, I need to be better acquainted with whatever algorithmic AI makes that decision. So, while I feel a little bit bad about splitting my loyalties between WP and Medium, I think it is too soon to give up on either.

Any thoughts?

Redecorating

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A few days ago while I was scrolling my IG (I’m cutting down, I promise) I ran across a picture of a random person who was very excited because a delivery of recent purchases were at the front door. She went on to describe her joy at finally receiving these long awaited treasures that would make her home so much better. She does this every few months she added. At that point I had to go back and reread to make sure I didn’t miss anything.

“I do this every few months” the sentence read. I could not believe it. I looked around my living room, noting that in 20 years very little has changed. My husband and I recently decide to sell our old sofas and purchase new reclining ones but that is about it for major purchases. Rearranging furniture every few months is something I can’t even contemplate doing, let alone actually doing it. I think if has some psychological reason and I wonder if more people are like the person I mentioned or like my husband and me. I decided to research it. I found the replies are all over the place. It is a very individual thing, everyone has a different reason for doing or not doing it.

I grew up in a two working parent household. I had three siblings. To make ends meet our parents often rented out a room or two. My mother, who tired of everything quickly, was constantly moving furniture around. It used to drive me crazy. I think the reason was that I began to feel insecure. The furniture itself was not the reason I felt insecure, it was coming home not knowing what to expect. Oftentimes, the rearranging of the furniture was actually a clue to my mother’s state of mind. If she was angry, or frustrated by events at work, she would take it out on the furniture, cleaning roughly as she rearranged a table. I don’t think I ever really put it together until recently when my DIL commented that she had only seen two changes in our furniture since she met us a decade ago. I had to chuckle. In my defense, however, I will say that even though I have “fixed” places for furniture, it gets moved around often for the deep cleaning that takes place every couple of weeks. I have never been humiliated by moving a piece of furniture to find long lost items or food under things. And my husband and children have never tripped (like I did when I was a kid) over a piece of furniture that was in a different place in the afternoon than it was in the morning.

The best justification I read when I researched the subject was that “everything needs a refresher, including furniture.” For now, I will be content to see before and after pictures of someone else’s rooms, mine will stay the way they are, I feel happily secure with that decision.

Social Work is Under Appreciated

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I have been thinking a lot about my mother today. She was a social worker. She was an activist. She was a very courageous person. From watching her, in her professional and personal enterprises, I was able to learn how groups are formed and what it takes to actually see a project go from an idea to an actual tangible thing.

My mom was a big promoter of “teaching a man person to fish, not handing out the fish” so that the person would never go hungry. I remember her often commenting that giving out the fish was so much easier and met with less resistance by almost everyone but that it was not helping the person who needed to learn how to get along in life when things were not easily given to him. She thought I would be a good person to follow in her footsteps in a helping profession, never quite understanding that I was exhausted from just watching her explain herself time and time again to reluctant students. When she confessed the extremely low success rate in really getting people to actively participate in their lives, I simply told her that my ambitions were very different.

In my own way, I do contribute to society by sponsoring young kids’ education (modestly and often anonymously) but I could not see it as a career choice for myself. These days as I get more comfortable with being completely out of my social-work type pro-bono commitments, I realize how much time and effort I did invest in the last 20 years to see very little improvement in the areas in our community that needed to be addressed. Years ago I thought it would be easy to convince people that there was a real need for a community center in our small town. I had a fantasy of a lovely building (perhaps a house that had received landmark status) with many rooms, each room used for a different cultural purpose like music lessons, art lessons, photography, needlework, etc. I had read that the Ministry of Culture was granting funds for proposals that they felt had merit.

I pitched the idea to the tourism board I volunteered with. The feedback was overwhelmingly positive. I was very eager to get started in forming the committee that would gather the documentation and submit their ideas, etc. I set up a meeting, even confirmed participants and brought members of the selection committee to accompany us that evening because we needed guidance on some of the requirements. Imagine my disappointment when just a handful of people showed up. We didn’t even have enough attendance to make it possible to form the committee. I became despondent at the lack of response and embarrassed that the selection committee was witness to it. I need not have worried they told me, and I also should not have been surprised. They had seen it all before and repeatedly. That is one of the reasons, they confided, that funds sit unused in coffers while citizens hungry for something to do in their communities sit at home languishing. It is disheartening and to this day, I don’t know what it was that kept my mother from throwing up her hands in despair and quitting. I did all I could for more than 10 years, and I do admit defeat. I see idealistic youth these days attempting to motivate change across generations and I applaud their efforts. Perhaps now is the right time, now that we have seen what two years in pandemic mode have brought to the forefront in terms of all the things that we are lacking and that we can actually do something about. I hope so.