In spring of 2008 I set a formidable goal for myself: to lose 50 pounds. As I begin this blog, I have now surpassed the 80-pound-loss milestone. Naturally, I get lots of requests from people wanting to know my “secrets.” I feel blessed by the ways in which I have inspired others by my own journey, and this blog represents an attempt to share the knowledge, insights and experiences I have encountered along the way. But, the title of this blog—“Finding Life in Loss”—is two-fold. While it’s easy to see how one might find “life” again through weight loss, I hope to address the topic of “loss” in a much broader context; for, I believe our experiences of loss and grief have just as much potential to lead us into new life. Those are the real “secrets” I hope to share. And please feel free to post comments--I love the interaction of knowing that others are reading!

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Love Yourself. Love Your Life. Watch What Happens.

Yesterday I posted the following entry on my other more general blog, but it clearly relates to the "Finding Life in Loss" theme, so I wanted to re-post it here as well. It highlights how interconnected I feel my fitness journey has been with all other aspects of my life, and how I am regaining my freedom to truly live life to its fullest. Feels pretty amazing! And it's a journey anyone can make, just starting one day at a time...

..............
From 12/13/2010:

I think I'm molting.

Sometimes when I exercise and really push myself to my limits during my workout, I arrive at a state afterward in which I am completely spent...thoroughly exhausted from the inside out. The endorphins have worked their magic and a deep, serious calm flows uninhibited through my entire bloodstream--my insides having been completely hollowed out by all the stress toxins being expelled from my body. In this state I could sleep like a baby.

Sometimes there are moments during my workouts--if I have been working out with a serious intensity, really pushing myself to my limits--in which I also reach an emotional break as I find myself suddenly choking on tears that have suddenly shot to the surface. As I reflect on these cathartic moments, I can't help but wonder how much of our emotional "baggage" is in fact simply being carried around in our bodies in metabolic form. Perhaps in my workouts I'm not only expelling stress hormones but grief hormones, broken-hearted hormones, disappointment hormones, loss hormones, anger hormones, depressed hormonones... It's no wonder some of these emotional ailments can dramatically affect our physical health if they are just floating around inside of us, trying to find a fertile space in which they can anchor themselves and start multiplying like cancer cells.

This past weekend I worked out hard. I danced like a fiend until 2:00am...and then turned around and played nearly 40 minutes of full court basketball the next day. I was completely spent, but it felt good to use up everything I had--as if I was the kind of rechargeable battery where it's best to completely drain the battery before recharging. It felt good to completely empty myself. This was something I was definitely needing.

On Sunday afternoon I was not of much use to anyone--but ultimately, this was good for me. I was thoroughly exhausted, and this caused me to slow down and finally get some much needed down time. In addition to feeling the complete expulsion of stress from my body, I became conscious of something else being lifted out of me. The signs of this came as uncontrollable tears spilling from my heart. But there was no accompanying sadness to the tears, just an awareness of something too simply profound to be able to define. It was something gently becoming detached from deep inside me and floating up, up, up....out into the atmosphere surrounding me. That's when I noticed: I think I'm molting! My outer skin is gently falling away as that bright, fresh, new skin that has been ever-so-steadily growing and forming just below the surface is now getting ready to be revealed. Some sort of transformation is taking place. A quiet, simple transformation; still, it's the unfolding of another scientific miracle. I am both excited and curious to see what this new skin will look like. In many ways I'm sure I will still look the same, but so much of life is hidden in the details. What unique new embellishments will stand out in this new layer of skin that weren't as noticeable or perhaps even present before? I can't wait to find out.

Love yourself. Love your life. And then pay attention: amazing things will happen.

No comments:

Post a Comment