No Fun 'til Xmas :(: Day 5 & 6: You know what rhymes with Saturday? Wine!

You know who can't have any? Me! Coz there's No Fun 'til Xmas!

I have to admit, I weighed myself this morning. I planned (on my weekly planner) to only weigh myself once a week for 3 reasons:
1. I know from experience that my weight fluctuates up and down all the time and it's normal
2. If I happen to catch it on an upswing then I get terribly morose and then self-sabotage
3. It's not about the weight

But, I needed something this morning. Something to let me know that my discomfort is worth it. I needed to feel strong and powerful. And it worked! I have lost 3.6 kilos since Day 1. It gave me the drive to keep going and to feel good about justifying torture (it's an ethical issue; savvy? ;) )

Yesterday I had to go out for most of the day but I really enjoyed the coffee I bought at Muzz Buzz. I have long blacks with just a dash of milk so it's the perfect treat. They are not so great on a mainly empty stomach as they make me all jittery and a bit yuk if I have a big one. But they are a treat and they make me feel happy. I just have to monitor the size of the ones I buy.

The idea of coffee is not really what this blog post is about but it leads me into the idea I had in mind. The concept of mindfulness is not a hokey, new-agey notion; it's an evidence-based, psychological process that helps us slow down and focus on the things that truly matter in our lives. It's about embracing emotions and allowing them to come and go and not judging yourself for having them, For me, it's about finding joy in the smallest things and coming to the realisation that it's those tiny, fleeting moments that make up a lived life; a well-lived life, if we notice them,

I have often been one of those people who feels a sense of guilt that my life is relatively good in terms of safety, family love and protection, lack of abuse, and the fortune of having being born into a free country where I have abundance and the right to do and speak as I please. But recently, through my growing interest in secular philosophies, I have come to understand that it is my duty as a fortunate human being on this planet to enjoy that fact. To pursue happiness is not just a right or a privilege; it's an imperative. I have been infinitesimally lucky enough to have this life so I must relish it or I do a great disservice to all who are not so fortunate. A great part of that is giving back, of course. But a great part is not taking for granted the tiny, sweet, and often unnoticed things that make up a joyful, abundant, and beautiful life. The good and the terrible; the hardships and the ease; the agony and the lightness of every day being.

One part of writing a fucking boring weightloss blog is to make it about so much more than weightloss. I am determined not to focus on the weight because that's what I have always done and doing what you've always done, when it doesn't work, is the definition of...? That's right, insanity. Did Einstein say that? Smart man. It's also the path of futility.

Another great man, George Costanza, said that doing the opposite of everything you have ever done before is the way to success. I happen to agree, hence this (hopefully not-so-fucking-boring blog). The list of things below are the tiny moments that give me great dollops of joy and I want to acknowledge those things now and open them up to the sunlight. These are the things which give my life meaning (not in the massive, metaphysical way but more in the micro, the internal, the ways-that-matter-most kind of way). These are the things that, if I lost them, would make my heart ache or break, depending on the moment. This small list, this infinite and never-to-be-completed-til-I-take-my-last-breath list, is what makes me who I am. And, ultimately, makes this process of losing weight into something so much more than what it's been before:

Overcast mornings
The breeze through the sheer, deep red curtains in our bedroom
The tinkling of the chimes on a windy night
The coffee my husband brings me in bed every morning of my life
The second cup he makes me when I ask
The knowledge after 45 years, that I know I am not a morning person and that I do not have to feel less than because I don't make it up to see the sunrise or "the best part of the day" because I am a dusk kind of girl. I love the gloaming (even the word!) and the night and those people who love the morning are welcome to it because I get the crickets and the stars and the black universe above my head.
I love the fact that, on the way to work through the forest of trees, I get a daily glimpse of the cliff on the South Ledge where my grandparents' ashes are scattered. And it makes me smile every morning. Partly because I loved them; partly because I remember the day we scattered them and the wind blew Mumma's back into my face and hair and I had to spit bits out; partly because of the poor man who was walking the trail and had to witness the debacle; but mostly because I am evil and I know that my grandparents were divorced for 35 years and now they have to spend eternity side-by-side (we made sure to leave a gap).
Pickled capsicum from a big jar
Any olive, anywhere, at any time
Sleep
Our 2nd toilet
My husband and children who I would maim, torture, and murder for if it came to the crunch.
The flattering mirror in the staff dunny
Ego
Confidence
Humility
Complexity
Laughter

What I THINK I look like