Flaw is Perfection

Every year, at this time, I am at my heaviest and it sucks. My clothes don't fit, yet the social obligations abound. Meh. No wonder so many people set New Year's resolutions to lose weight. Once Halloween hits, it's all refined sugars and too many cocktails until we land in January, bloated and tangled up in tinsel. Good morning, dahlings, might you fix lelu a cocktail? Oh rubbish, I'm teetotaling for the first 3 weeks of January, never mind. My birthday is at the end of January, so every year I set some goals to work on for the month. Then I get to celebrate the day of my birth guilt free, once I've accomplished said goals. This is much less daunting than promising myself an entire year of good behavior, or worse, a ghastly commitment to lifestyle change. Yuk! I'm trying to keep it simple this year, which is difficult. I want to do it all: January Cure! Quit alcohol! Go paleo! Work out every day! Success is important, however, so I need to make it reasonable. No alcohol from Jan 1-21. OK. I can do this. As for the January cure, my house will take the entire month to clean-up after the holidays. There are boxes, piles, and gift bags that must be sorted and put away; things to get rid of to make room for the new. I don't need some bossy blogger to tell me how to do that. Last year, I went all out in January. I took a break from alcohol, cigarettes, sugar, coffee, dairy, meat, and gluten. I took potent herbal detox supplements. My body broke out in hives, cysts, and eczema! I went too far. I'm still suffering the effects. This was a good lesson in not being such an extremist. But I still yearn for it. My bulging mid-section wants me to stop eating and start running until about mid-year. The break from booze should help some. Fortunately, after so much toffee and pie, I'm actually craving healthy foods so that will help too. I have a longer range plan of setting one specific goal per month, for the first part of 2016. The many many things about myself and life that need tweaking cannot be fixed all at once, or probably ever. Maybe by simplifying it to just one thing at a time, with an end in sight...just maybe I can keep improving myself until I perfect me to my satisfaction! Hah! Good one.

Here's a random view from Spencer's Butte. Happy New Year, delightful beings! Celebrate the perfection of flaw.

Giving them all we've got to give

It isn't Christmas without a little overwhelm, I suppose. Every year I build a list full of expectations that makes me very busy during the weeks leading up to the big day. I'm not even Christian. I am of the opinion that consumerism is a big part of why our culture is broken. Yet, the Christmas spirit grabs me, year after year, and I over do it. I make as many gifts as I can, but this takes time, which is always limited. I also overspend. I use my credit card. I have no business using my credit card, trust me. Today, Christmas Eve, I have the sniffles and a list that will take 10-12 hours to complete. I got about 3 hours of sleep last night. In perfect procrastinator form, I'm sitting in my bed, listening to Tom Waits as my cat flicks his tail on the windowsill. What a lovely day. I'm so lucky to be able to slack in my warm house, with a paid day off work. I'll get up soon, make some tea, bake some cookies and pies, wrap gifts, enjoy the day. Despite the cognitive dissonance of paragraph one, I treasure this holiday. Partly because I am nostalgic for the soft-lined, Norman Rockwellian Christmas my mom always worked so hard to produce for us every year; but mostly because this is the time of year when I am most generous and creative. I am energized by making gifts for my loves. I get giddy when I find the perfect gift to buy, as well. Whatever this season means to each of us, we all unite in the collective spirit of taking time with the people we love and giving them all we've got to give. This makes me happy, and tired, but mostly happy.

Practicing for a New Goal?

I've never been a consistent blogger. I have a friend who is, and I enjoy keeping up with her life through the readings. She uses her blog as a memory of life events, too - referencing things she had forgotten about, but which were recorded in the archives. I do sometimes write in a paper journal. That is more my speed - journaling in a sketch book where I can add doodles and charts to illustrate my life. There were many years when I wrote regularly. But those journals were supposed to be private. I perceived them as a judgment free dumping ground for all the thoughts and feelings I could never share. Over time I realized that anything I wrote was subject to being read by another, sometimes maliciously, but usually just out of curiosity. Not everyone understands the sacred privacy of such things. When I was a child I had those diaries with the tiny lock, which could be picked by any 5-year old with a paperclip. I perceived those as private too, until my mother started punishing me for that which had not been named. In this way, blogging has stumped me. I enjoy reading others' blogs, but fear my writing might be offensive, boring, or horribly illuminating to the infinite flaws in my character. Yet I continue to cycle round to the idea that I would enjoy and benefit from a regular writing routine. Am I just a narcissist? An exhibitionist? One who likes to see myself talk? And here we have it, the undeniable character trait of a bullying internal critic. Yep. Check. I admire the way some people express themselves in, what seems like, entire transparency. I would like to be more like them. I hide myself too much. I'm not so bad. I don't maim, murder, or rape. There's an ingrained privacy default for me that is hard to kick. It seems clear here that this is a fear of judgment. So, I'm considering challenging myself to at least a weekly post, for some predetermined chunk of time - maybe 6 months, maybe 3.