Take the stairs!

I am becoming hyper-aware of my health and fitness. For most of my 25 years I have eaten what I want (mac & cheese, all the time! yumm), used the cheapest cosmetics (I’m mostly talking shampoo, soaps, toothpaste, etc), parked as close as possible to entrances, and almost always opted for the elevator over the stairs. But over the last year in particular, I’ve been realizing just how important my body is, and how disrespectfully I have been treating it. I’ve watched people eat whatever they want, whenever they want, however much they want, simply because the taste of the food in their mouths at that moment is more important to them than any accompanying consequences. Especially of those consequences aren’t immediate! And, if I am being totally honest with myself, this is the way I have always been too.

God gave me this body, the one I am in. Not some supermodel or athlete just this average weight, fairly tall, normal looking female body. And it may have taken me 25 years to realize it, but God gave this soul this body because this is the one that was perfect to his purposes. How cool is that! Yet I have disrespected and abused this body, at times even hated it and complained about it and wished God had done a better job with it.

How ungrateful of me! I have four limbs, five working senses, healthy lungs, an amazing mind (aren’t brainsĀ amazing??) and a beating heart! I am not torn down by cancer or disease, I am not crippled in any sense of the word, I am not deaf, mute or blind. So what has been holding me back all this time from accepting this awesome gift from God and striving to take care of it and use it the way that it was intended?

I don’t know what God has planned for my life. But I want to be ready for it. And I think taking care of this body that God calls a temple is at least someplace to start. So from now on, I will do my best to eat my vegetables and take the stairs.

94 Hours of Art

In memory of my wonderful, beautiful mother. 10/23/57-3/7/2011

I’ve been thinking about Mom a lot. More than usual, I mean. Next week, it will have been one year since she left us, though in all honesty it feels like no time has passed at all.

I realized that since Facebook moved to the new ‘Timeline” format, I had nothing much to use as my timeline cover photo. I thought, what better way to use that space than as a memorial to the best woman I’ve ever known. So for my 6th hour of my 100 Hours of Art, I turned to my computer.

Always thinking of you Mom.

Passive-agressiveness

Over the last couple years, I’ve realized that almost all of the conflicts that I have had with people, with myself or with God have been mostly because of my own passive-aggressive tendencies.

This is a really hard thing to realize because most of the time I didn’t/don’t even realize that I am doing it. I think it’s a sort of defense mechanism, a way of protecting myself from feeling responsible or guilty. It ensured that I never fully admitted fault for anything, or sincerely apologized, or truly forgave.

In short, I think it really kept me from showing love to people.

Passive-aggressiveness is a lot more complicated than most people think. It’s not simply an understated form of retaliation or defiance. It’s not just veiled anger hidden in my sarcasm or jokes. It’s not just protecting my sense of self-respect or self-worth by posting something on Facebook that’s just generic enough to deny that it was about something or someone specific that bothered or angered me.

These are all things that I have done in the past, and that I see every single day from other people., but it’s more deep-seated than that.

I want to be able to freely love people without having these instinctual reactions to protect myself from something that I likely only imagined. And I think trying to understand it is a good start, and it has certainly been helpful.

Here is an interesting article from the NY Times a few years ago that might be a good place to start if you are beginning to realize that this is something that you struggle with too. What is it that people always say? The first step to recovery is to admit I have a problem. And boy, do I have a problem.