Even as the rain continues, and continues, and continues, and Spring teases us like the guy in high school who glanced and smiled and never said hi, I feel especially hopeful today.
Last Saturday, I went to a workshop led by Bob Edelstein, my clinical supervisor and mentor. I have worked with Bob for 3 years now, but I always learn something new in his presence. His passion for what he does is something to behold. Passion! I left the workshop on Saturday evening feeling reinvigorated for the work that I do with my clients; excited for the process.
Bob always brings humor, candor, and a kind of simplicity to a difficult process. "What would Bob do right now?" flits through my mind many times during a work week. When I have the chance to ask him, I am always surprised and inspired by the answer.
I also had fun. On Sunday I went to see Robin Hood with K. Not a great movie, but a really fun movie. Beautiful English countryside, solid actors (Cate Blanchett!), and a timeless story.
And "Lost." Ah yes. I have been a devoted fan for 5 of the 6 seasons. I began watching because K. was working on Tuesday evenings, and it stuck. The finale was great, entertaining, and fun. And it made me think. And search the internet for what other people thought. And think some more.
I also met some challenges this week. As I do every week. If we expect life not to challenge us, oh crap, we are in trouble. Some of these challenges involved work, some friends, some simple circumstances. But I dealt with them and moved on. What can I call that? Action!
And I had some great conversations, both in session and out. I connected with others, shared ideas, relaxed and enjoyed. I allowed the presence of fellow human beings to influence and change me. I connected.
So, a full week. A week full of learning, thinking, feeling, action, and connecting. A week, in many ways, like most weeks. But more... noticed, felt, experienced. May hope and remembrance fill your weekend!
28 May 2010
20 May 2010
The Food Issue
It has been consistently documented, talked about, and encouraged.
Every newspaper and magazine with anything to do with health addresses it continually.
Beyond the already difficult body-image issues that Americans struggle with, we know that eating is related to mood: good nutrition is essential to mental health.
Is it really a surprise?
Food is essential to the life of our body. How could it not be related to our mood?
Eating good food is one of the great pleasures of life. How could a lack of this not make us feel like something was missing?
For years, I myself have struggled with this. Even though I have always loved to cook. I have gone through many food phases. Raw food, vegetarian, ending last year with the "giving up" phase. I had resigned myself, at the tender age of 34, to the fact that because I would never a) run or b) go to the gym regularly, I would never be "fit."
And I couldn't imagine that I would ever have time to cook "good meals" with my busy schedule and later evening working hours.
But I was frustrated by how I felt. I went home in the evening with headaches all the time. I wasn't in shape enough to enjoy the outdoors like I used to. And it was all making me very sad. Something had to give. And it did.
Two people changed it all. Well three, if you count me.
The first was my wonderful health coach, Katie Decker. I worked with Katie twice a month for 6 months. I committed to change. I kibitzed, I complained, I celebrated. She listened. Katie is a wonderful coach, beautiful person and friend. A good coach at the right time can be just what you need.
And then, I finally bought and read the book I'd been eying for years: French Women Don't Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano. I was at the airport after a trip to see my beautiful little sister in San Diego. She was looking and feeling so good, and I wanted some of that. I saw that book and something clicked. The next day it was on its way from Amazon.
I read FWDGF over the course of 2 days. By the second day, I was eating breakfast--something I have always struggled with--and haven't stopped. I began cooking at home, eating delicious food, drinking water, going on the long walks I had always loved, the list is endless.
If you choose to read it, do as Mireille says, give it time. Read the whole thing. Let it sink in.
For whatever reason, this book gave me permission to live life in the way that feels good to me. No spandex or big sweats (unless I'm hiking someplace magnificent!). Just a good 20 minute walk everyday, and 3-4 hikes up the 8 flights of stairs to my office every week.
I work in downtown Portland and discovered that I spent every week day in the best walking neighborhood in Portland.
I began to see possibility all around me. Good food seemed possible, fun, and I was losing weight and feeling good.
Next weekend it will have been one year since that fateful reading. I'm celebrating that by coming out of the FWDGF closet. It changed my life, maybe it could change yours. I've recommended it to a few clients like a secret, as if as a therapist I should be above such things.
But a good therapist is never above what helps--why should I be?
To your health!
Every newspaper and magazine with anything to do with health addresses it continually.
Beyond the already difficult body-image issues that Americans struggle with, we know that eating is related to mood: good nutrition is essential to mental health.
Is it really a surprise?
Food is essential to the life of our body. How could it not be related to our mood?
Eating good food is one of the great pleasures of life. How could a lack of this not make us feel like something was missing?
For years, I myself have struggled with this. Even though I have always loved to cook. I have gone through many food phases. Raw food, vegetarian, ending last year with the "giving up" phase. I had resigned myself, at the tender age of 34, to the fact that because I would never a) run or b) go to the gym regularly, I would never be "fit."
And I couldn't imagine that I would ever have time to cook "good meals" with my busy schedule and later evening working hours.
But I was frustrated by how I felt. I went home in the evening with headaches all the time. I wasn't in shape enough to enjoy the outdoors like I used to. And it was all making me very sad. Something had to give. And it did.
Two people changed it all. Well three, if you count me.
The first was my wonderful health coach, Katie Decker. I worked with Katie twice a month for 6 months. I committed to change. I kibitzed, I complained, I celebrated. She listened. Katie is a wonderful coach, beautiful person and friend. A good coach at the right time can be just what you need.
And then, I finally bought and read the book I'd been eying for years: French Women Don't Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano. I was at the airport after a trip to see my beautiful little sister in San Diego. She was looking and feeling so good, and I wanted some of that. I saw that book and something clicked. The next day it was on its way from Amazon.
I read FWDGF over the course of 2 days. By the second day, I was eating breakfast--something I have always struggled with--and haven't stopped. I began cooking at home, eating delicious food, drinking water, going on the long walks I had always loved, the list is endless.
If you choose to read it, do as Mireille says, give it time. Read the whole thing. Let it sink in.
For whatever reason, this book gave me permission to live life in the way that feels good to me. No spandex or big sweats (unless I'm hiking someplace magnificent!). Just a good 20 minute walk everyday, and 3-4 hikes up the 8 flights of stairs to my office every week.
I work in downtown Portland and discovered that I spent every week day in the best walking neighborhood in Portland.
I began to see possibility all around me. Good food seemed possible, fun, and I was losing weight and feeling good.
Next weekend it will have been one year since that fateful reading. I'm celebrating that by coming out of the FWDGF closet. It changed my life, maybe it could change yours. I've recommended it to a few clients like a secret, as if as a therapist I should be above such things.
But a good therapist is never above what helps--why should I be?
To your health!
14 May 2010
All Over Again
Here it is, Friday all over again. Today in Portland, it is gorgeous, glorious, sunny, beautiful, perfect outside. The city heaves with the wonder of it. Everyone talks about the weekend, dreams of green grass, vegetables, and summer.
The longing for sun and its appearance in May is part of the cycle of the seasons here. Truly. Every year I remember this. "Oh yeah, it will be sunny and warm and then cold again after Memorial Day, and everyone will be sad, and then it will get hot in July" That's how it usually goes.
Yet every year we all wait for it as if it will never come. And hold onto it as if we could. And forget about the cycle. Understanding the cycle, though, is where it's sweet.
This is true about our own lives, no? When we recognize our cycles, we are able to stay more sane as they move through us. Without cycles, we would not be alive. This is the nature of the seasons.
In September, the evening air is cool with death, and the beginnings of winter. But now, the evening air is cool with the warmth of summer in its breath. And we wait, and it will come. And then go again.
The longing for sun and its appearance in May is part of the cycle of the seasons here. Truly. Every year I remember this. "Oh yeah, it will be sunny and warm and then cold again after Memorial Day, and everyone will be sad, and then it will get hot in July" That's how it usually goes.
Yet every year we all wait for it as if it will never come. And hold onto it as if we could. And forget about the cycle. Understanding the cycle, though, is where it's sweet.
This is true about our own lives, no? When we recognize our cycles, we are able to stay more sane as they move through us. Without cycles, we would not be alive. This is the nature of the seasons.
In September, the evening air is cool with death, and the beginnings of winter. But now, the evening air is cool with the warmth of summer in its breath. And we wait, and it will come. And then go again.
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