Holiday Thoughts from Eating Disorder Recovery

Now that final exams are over and it's almost the last day of Advent, I feel like the whole season is going by very quickly, and it's increasingly difficult to stay grounded amidst the chaos of last-minute shopping and mailing and the close of the semester as both a student and a teacher. The little kids I work with were very excited to be going home for winter break, and I'm grateful to be home. Most of my energies are now devoted to approaching scholarship deadlines, cleaning, sending packages, cat-sitting, and more cleaning, but, as someone still "in recovery," my thoughts have of course wandered to places eating disorder-related.  Needless to say, some of those places have been more enlightened than others.

Seriously, though . . .  these gingerbread men are more enlightened than I am sometimes.

From delish.com

It's the time of year that, between Christmas songs, radios play advertisements for gym memberships to help you "get back on track" after the holidays. I'm by no means being critical or negative about these ads. Gym memberships can be wonderful opportunities for people to take a break, relax, and do something fun and active. But the way we talk about "fitness" is seriously flawed. By using phrases like "earn it to burn it," we've created a paradigm that food and exercise are related. In order to eat, you need to work out.

If I told that to my child self, she'd look at me like I were crazy. For little kids, "working out" isn't really a thing. My students move around intuitively, eat intuitively, sleep well, and lead healthy lifestyles just by default, and they all look different based on genetics. They don't have any of the addictive, unhealthy habits that hurt people physically and mentally, and they don't exist in extremes. None of them are equating what they eat to how they move, yet none of them are spending all day watching YouTube videos, either. "Balanced' doesn't mean "following all the magic health guidelines" and being "perfect." It means just being and living in a way that is light and flexible and free and connected to nature, your spirit, and other people.

In other words, "balanced" does not mean jumping on the self-hate train as soon as the holidays are over.

I know that this is much easier said than done. It's been a long, long time since I've eaten dessert and felt totally, 100% "free" about it afterwards. Usually, a lot of breath-holding and self-hate is involved! As someone who loves yoga, meditation, and spirituality, I often feel like a hypocrite. I give so much lip service to "compassion" and "loving-kindness" and "flexibility," but then when I'm supposed to be compassionate, kind, and flexible with myself, I'm the opposite.

Janis is probably talking about anorexia! (Image not mine.)

What's been helping me in times of self-bullying (which, for anyone affected by New Year's food- and body-shaming, may be more frequent during the holiday season) is taking a deep breath and going to that more spiritual place in my head that realizes my body is a gift, not a burden or an object. Again, this is easier said than done, but when you're judging yourself, try to take a step away from yourself. There's this lovely quote floating around the Internet about how everyone is just a "ghost piloting a meat-covered skeleton made of stardust." If at our essence we're really just ghosts/souls/spirits/cosmic beings, then our bodies are vehicles through which we can interact with the world. We need to appreciate them for what they are, take care of them, and stop angsting about how to "change" and "fix" them. JUST BE. The only thing you need to "detox" right now is self-hate. It's doing much more damage than any enlightened little gingerbread man every will.

<3 <3 <3 

Embracing Unpredictability

Instead of studying for finals yesterday, I spent the morning trudging through snowmageddon with my mum and brother. Because of a rather un-foreboding weather forecast, we'd thought that we would be able to make it home from church before the weather got bad, but our 24 year-old car ended up sliding down an ice hill, and we had to abandon it in the middle of the city and seek shelter in our friend's tool shed. By the time he got home to break us out of it, the roads were buried, and we ended up staying the night without access to any of our homework. Yay, finals!

Needless to say, I am so incredibly grateful our hero-friend saved us from the snowstorm. We got locked in his shed, and when he showed up wearing a Santa hat to break us out of it, we were soaked and covered in the purple-red hues of pre-frostbite. I swear that I've never been so happy in my life to have a cup of tea before . . . even if the inspirational quote on the tea bag made me feel a bit foolish for having gone out that morning:

"One thorn of experience is worth a whole wilderness of warning."

Thank you, James Russell Lowell. I'll remember that.

Anyway, we made it back to our poor sweet car today and dug him out of his snow pile enough to get home, and we're desperately trying to make up for our lost study time now. The semester ends this week, so I'm trying to write as fast as possible, but I wanted to take a quick break to post here a little bit because last night got me thinking a lot about practicing gratitude and embracing unpredictability. Both of these things are so crucial to eating disorder recovery.

Found on Yoga for Wellness

One of the things that an eating disorder promises us is control. Often, we become vulnerable to eating disorders in part because something about our lives feels out of control, and we believe that if we control every aspect of what we eat, we'll find a sense of safety and calm. Ironically, though, having an eating disorder actually means losing control to an illness. We give up our sanity, our health, and our happiness for control that we don't actually have. Isn't that scary?!

I know I make this comparison a lot, but Gollum's relationship with the One Ring in The Lord of the Rings is a really good metaphor for the relationship someone has with an eating disorder. Gollum thinks that possessing the One Ring gives him control in his life, but in reality, the One Ring is a very unhealthy fixation for him. I mean, he's willing to spend eternity hunched over in a dark cave talking to himself and cradling the ring like it's the only thing he cares about. "My precious . . . ."

When I think of my eating disorder obsessions, I try to imagine Gollum and the One Ring, and then I realize that an eating disorder--as "in control" as it may make me feel--is ultimately going to ruin my life if I don't fight it, regardless of how counter-intuitive and stressful non-disordered behaviors may seem. But every day that I don't do the hardest workout and every Friday night that I eat a bowl of Luna & Larry's on the couch with my brother is another step closer to freedom.

And as for practicing gratitude . . . my mum and I have been trying to follow some of Lesley Fightmaster and Adriene Mishler's yoga videos on YouTube, and they usually include mindfulness lessons woven in with the actually asanas themselves. A few days ago, we did a yoga video that included a quote from The 7 Book: How Many Days of the Week Can be Extraordinary? by Dan Zadra and Kobi Yamada:

30,000 mornings, give or take, is all we’re given. If you’re 26, you still have 20,000 left. If you’re 54, you still have 10,000. An accident or illness could change all that, of course. But let’s count on you to remain safe and healthy all your allotted life—in which case you still have plenty of time. Sort of.

“We get to think of life as an inexhaustible well,” wrote composer and author Paul Bowles, who lived to the ripe old age of 32,442 mornings. “Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. 

“How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that’s so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more, perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless.” 

30,000 mornings. We’ll spend some of them on the treadmill, or fighting traffic, or standing in line at the Starbucks store. Just be sure to spend some of yours seeking and savoring the real beauty, mystery, and adventure of your days. This is your life, your one and only life—don’t miss a day of it.

Yesterday, I spent one of my 30,000 mornings hiking to safety in a tool shed, but my family and I didn't die in an accident, and we got to spend the evening with each other and a dear friend instead of spending it obsessing over homework. So I'm grateful for yesterday. Focus on the mornings, the evenings, the mid-days . . . see every moment as an individual piece of time that you've been granted. The freer moments are the ones when the eating disorder isn't in charge. You can do recovery and get your moments back for yourself. I believe in you.

And before I go . . .please be careful if you're in dangerous weather!

<3 <3 <3