Today I walked to a farm market, shopped, and walked back. I returned to my daughter and her friend who told me that with my converse sneakers and backpack I looked young; her friend agreed I didn't look like my true age. The walk and the comments felt good and as I unpacked my bag I engaged with the food: the deep red of peppers, tangy smell of ripe grapefruit, the undeniable avocado green and the soft wheat bread gave me a heady visceral experience. Taking stock of my day so far that included several therapy sessions as well as the walk, I noticed a satisfaction and a presence that permeated my sense of self. Dinner tonight with a friend will round off the day and if I top it off with an IPad game of Scrabble, a chat with my daughter and her boyfriend, some texting with my busy partner, and some reading, I will feel complete. This day, this very day is one that I count in the string of days that I have been on this planet. It is perfect in it's simplicity and I want for very little (Ok, I want to be in Italy walking to a different farm market, or to win that lottery that we all plan for).
I began to consider the choices we have all day to perceive, engage, use our wisdom and behaviors to live well. These gifts are not to be taken for granted, and to be sure, there are many people worldwide who do not have the same freedoms that I do in this moment. But my focus is on those struggling with disordered eating and with the loud voice that shatters perfect days with rants on imperfection regarding calorie intake, exercise, small enough binges and large enough purges. The day begins and ends with goals and unmet goals that drive sensual, fully engaged living into the corner. Intellect is clouded and choked off while the extra bite of fat free Jello is regarded as a defeat in the war. This war strings together days that lead from a small problem to a life sentence. Eating disorders have marched with many people from adolescence through to middle age and have a hold on the heart and mind. The "bucket list" that could include presence with oneself and others and travel and books and experiences one wishes for twists into the body imagined that never is perfected, while the body one has is scrutinized beyond recognition. Time flies and pain and failure take over; a sad reality for way too many people.
The challenge is this: can you find things during each day to smile about, can you notice your strengths, hear and retain the compliments (you know you retain the criticisms), can you fire up the dream machine in your head and think of some goal that has nothing to do with changing your body, and can you allow this day to not fly by into the despair of the eating disordered voice you live with? Can the time that changes us all (despite our Converse sneaks) bring a healing for the sense of self and body you manifest in the world? Don't let it fly by - catch it and play, relax and dream. Let me know what happens if you do!
