Making the Decision

When I'm not doing what I know I need to do to get and feel better, I totally suck. As a former athlete, I am just not wholly Laura when I am not physically involved in Life. To not suck, I need to be Healthy, or at least need to be heading in the direction of the Top of My Game. I am a crazier lady without strength and prowess. Without them I suffer from a kind of spiritual anemia; it's subtle and chronic so it's easy to get used to.

Making these kinds of changes, getting off the couch and "moving around," are hard. But when I consider the alternative (ahem, not getting off the couch), then easy or hard just can't be part of the equation. The pushing myself up from the cushions just becomes Law. The same way that not drinking is a Law for me. It's powerful to act on your own behalf. Powerful for me to make my bed every morning. Wash my dishes. Get my oil changed. Keep my life going in a way I wasn't able to years ago. And it's been powerful, very recently, to have enacted into legislation the following:

1. Exercise: vigorous yoga classes and a personal trainer.
2. Quitting caffeine and surviving.
3. Cutting out gluten. And sugar. And dairy.
4. Throwing myself into cooking and shopping and cooking some more (and oh, the dishes!!).
5. A new and exciting creative project with a Dear Friend and excellent collaborator.

Even so, yesterday morning, I had a mini-meltdown on my bed before work when I couldn't decide what to wear. Which wasn't really about what I was going to wear or not wear, but about how I'd been exercising, and giving up stuff, and spending all my time washing and chopping vegetables and cooking grains and pretending I like soy milk, and YET, my pants felt no looser.

But I threw on jeans and heels and a pretty top and got in my wagon and drove to work anyway, because I gotta make the bacon.

I went back and forth all day about whether or not I should go to my regular Monday yoga class. I wasn't losing weight after all. Why bother? Until Dear Friend reminded me via an e-mail that bore the subject "pep talk," that weight loss or no, I was getting healthier, and spending more time writing and creating (even when what I'm creating are amazing, healthy meals and not always amazing, healthy essays or stories or poems). Would I rather eat badly, have no energy, and not be creatively inspired? Or be the same weight (especially when the weight I am is really just perfectly fine) and be healthy and more comfortable in my body?

Thankfully, my yoga feet carried me to class. Thank GOD they carried me to class. I broke through the seventh-chakra wall, or something like that. I don't know chakras. Or what #7 is. But I know now that my body is changing. After the class, my body looked different to me. Felt different. Is different.

Here's the deal: I'd been wanting to do yoga for more than 6 months before I actually went to a class. And I'd been wanting to turn my diet around about 1 year before I actually started doing it a few weeks ago. There's power in the suffering it takes to get to the jumping off place. And there's even more power in jumping into a better spot. In making a decision to do it. Like, really do it.

My next decision: Bed. This chick is toast. Actually, she can't be toast...she can be...a sprouted corn tortilla, which sounds ridiculous, so this chick will just simply head to bed. Or be that acorn sprout up there, heading to bed. An acorn sprout in her pjs and socks heading for the covers.