Tis More Blessed to Receive than to Give

There’s something to be said for the skill of receiving complements. 

Complement:  “That’s a great dress!”

Response:  “Oh, this old thing?  It’s a million years old.  I really need to go shopping.”

Or

Complement:  “I love your haircut!”

Response:  “Really?  Can’t y0u tell the bangs are uneven?”

Or

Complement:  “You have such amazing children.”

Response:  “Yeah, but they’re driving me crazy!”

Why do we, on so many occasions, diminish the complements we’re given?  Is it that we don’t want to appear arrogant, conceited, or narcissistic?  Is it because we think, by responding with a self-deprecating remark,  we’re being humble?  Is it because we’ve been told not to think too highly of ourselves?  Is it because we, as women,  spend so much time acknowledging, praising, nurturing, and caring for others that it is hard for us to allow ourselves to be cared for with kind expressions of appreciation?

This is a phenomenon I’ve noticed a lot recently, and it seems that many of us find it difficult to receive a complement.  So often, throughout the course of my life, I’ve been given a complement and felt compelled to argue with it, deny it, or reject it in some way.  And what I’m discovering is that when we diminish a complement with our words, it’s as if we have taken a beautiful gift and tossed it in the trash.  Someone has taken the time and the effort to praise us in some way, and when we demean the complement in a misguided effort to be humble, we put up blocks and barriers to receiving more goodness (and more complements) in our lives.  

In a way, I think this is related to our inability to complement ourselves.  I think it’s related to our inability to recognize the fantastic magnificence of our lives.  I think it’s related to our view of ourselves and our lives and our worthiness and sense of deservingness.  I think it’s related our being more comfortable in the realm of self-deprecation than in the realm of self-appreciation.

I have a friend who is beginning to focus on what is right in her life.  The more she focusses on celebrating her life, the more she has to celebrate.  As she’s learning to view her life as amazing, wonderful, and worthy of praise, she’s becoming skilled in the art of accepting a complement.  Over the past few years, I’ve seen her move from the “This old thing?” mentality to the simple “Thank you so much!  I like it, too!” point of view.

The next time you someone complements you, consider paying close attention to your response.  

Do you instantly denying the complement in some way?  Do you find yourself wanting to argue with the person who complemented you?  Do you find the complement difficult to hear?  

Or do you find yourself simply saying, “Thank you”?

Up Next:  How to Get What You Want

When People Make Comments About Your Food Choices

I ate a brownie the other day.

And this event elicited a comment from one of the people I was with.

The implication was that, since I’ve lost weight and am helping others lose weight as well, I should not be eating brownies.

(If I had deprived myself of that brownie, there’s a possibility that, after this meeting, I would have driven directly to the grocery store, bought an entire pan of brownies from the bakery department, and eaten them all in my car on the way home.  However, in the meeting, I chose not to deprive myself of that brownie.  Instead, I enjoyed it, relished it, took pleasure in it, and felt grateful that someone had taken the time to prepare it.)

The comment about my brownie-eating activity, to me,  felt like sabotage.  It didn’t feel good.  But it did get me to thinking about what I really wanted.  The comment, which was something I did not want, pointed me in the direction of something I did want.  And what I want is what most people who deal with weight issues want.

We want support.  We want encouragement.  We want recognition and acknowledgement for our efforts and for our successes and for our choices.  

For me, allowing myself to thoroughly enjoy that brownie in the presence of others was victory.  If I had eaten a pan of brownies in the isolation of my car, that would have felt like failure.  

For me, taking pleasure in the warm, chewy, chocolaty, brownie goodness was a cause to celebrate.  Eating cold brownies from a grocery store would have caused me to revert to old patterns of thinking.

And sometimes, when the people in our lives don’t provide us with the support we think we want in the manner in which we want it, it becomes important for us to celebrate ourselves.  It becomes important for us to encourage ourselves.  It becomes important to turn up the volume on saying kind things to ourselves, on treatingourselves well, and on loving ourselves.

If you feel that, on occasion, you encounter sabotage, look that sabotage as a clear and direct signal for you to treat yourself like the precious creature you are.

Up Next:  ‘Tis More Blessed to Receive than to Give

Forgiveness and Weight Loss

I’m good at holding a grudge.  And I’m not so good at forgiving.

If I feel someone has irritated me, or hurt me, or wronged me, or betrayed my trust, or disappointed me in some way, viewing that person with kind, compassionate, and loving thoughts can present somewhat of a challenge.  Forgiving others definitely does not come naturally to me.  Blessing those I find irritating can be difficult.  Wishing them well seems out of my grasp.   And feeling love toward those who have hurt me is usually not my first response. 

I have a hard time forgiving others.  

But sometimes I think the person I have the hardest time forgiving is myself.

Many of us who are overweight or who have been overweight have lived lives filled with pain.  But the ironic thing is that the deepest pain we experience usually is not inflicted on us from the outside world.  The pain we experience on a soul-level seems to comes from our internal mindset about our bodies and our lives and who we are as human beings.   We betray ourselves and our bodies through what we tell ourselves about our faces, our legs, our stomachs, our breasts, our hair, our skin, our bottoms, our arms. . .   While our external world may be unkind, our internal world can be ruthless.

And so the question becomes, how can I forgive myself for treating myself unkindly?  I recently came across an idea in Marianne Williamson’s A Return to Love which suggests that, when we forgive, we focus on the good, and the rest falls away.  And nowhere does this idea apply more than to weight loss.  As we focus on the good, or as I like to call it, the beauty in our physical bodies, the rest (or the weight that is no longer needed) falls away.  As we focus on the joy and delight and pleasure and goodness of being alive in this amazing human body, the weight comes off.  As we focus on loving and adoring every inch of our precious physical vehicle, we shift our view of who we are and what we deserve.  As we focus on the amazing sensual pleasures in  simply being alive in our body, we become more motivated to cherish it and love it in ways that feel wonderful to us.

If you feel like you may be struggling with losing a few pounds (or more), consider, for the next week, focussing on “the good” in your body.  If you feel like the weight will never come off, consider cherishing and loving your physical self in ways you’ve never done before.  Forgiveness is really about focussing on the good.  As you focus on the goodness of your amazing human body, forget about numbers.  Forget about the number on the scale, or the number on your jean’s waistband, or the number of pills you take.   And instead, remember and acknowledge the the truth of who you are.  Focus on the good.  You will be releasing thoughts (and weight) which no longer serve you.  

Up Next:  When People Make Comments About Your Food

"Exercise Is Such a Drag!"

If you’re anything like I was, these words might express your predominant feelings about exercise.

And believe me, I understand.  I so understand.  And I totally relate.  

I remember being one of the rounder little girls in elementary school.  I remember going to gym class in first or second grade, and having to climb a rope.  (To this day, I don’t see why it’s important for a first grader to climb a rope.)  And I was the worst rope climber in my class.  I couldn’t do it.  And as one of the heavier kids in grade school, I was consistently one of the last kids to be picked for any sort of team.  Then in high school, I was required to take one year of physical education, and my lack of physical coordination earned me a grade of C.

And so, for the first 45 or so years of my life, to me, exercise was a drag.  Of course, smattered along the course of these 45 years were New Year’s Resolutions, aerobics classes, Jane Fonda videos, and some intense and frustrating events on Stairmasters and in weight rooms.  But none of these experiences ever lasted very long.  None of them really took, because I told myself, time and time again, “I hate this.  Exercise is such a drag.”  Exercise was something that I knew, intellectually, was good for me, but it was something that I could never quite commit to.

Until. . . 

I made a conscious, intentional, and determined shift in my thinking.  

It wasn’t until I shifted what I said to myself about myself that I was able to move into the realm of actually enjoying moving my body.  With almost 50 pounds of excess weight on my body, I began to notice things about my physical self that I liked.  And it wasn’t easy, to begin with.  But the more I did it, the easier it got.  I began to be grateful for my legs, which allowed me to walk up a flight of stairs.  I began to be grateful for my wrists, which allowed me to grip a pen, hold a steering wheel, wash a fork, and hold a musical instrument.  I began to be grateful for my eyes, which allowed me to see beauty everywhere I looked.  I began to be grateful for my big toe, which allowed me to be mobile and balanced.

As I approved of my overweight body, and appreciated the pleasure I could experience in my overweight body, I began to want to care for it in a more loving way.  I began to want to eat more healthful food.  I began to want to move it in a way that was fun for me.  I began to set an intention of getting in the best shape of my life.

As I acknowledged all the amazing things that my body could do for me, I began to actually enjoy moving it.  I started out going for a brief walk.  Then it expanded into a longer walk.  Then it morphed into running short distances.  And then the distances increased.  And now I consider myself a distance runner.

Transformation is possible.  For me, my thoughts of “Exercise is such a drag!” morphed into “I love to run.”

The key to this?  Loving, approving, and appreciating your body, as it is right now, regardless of the number on the scale.  

Up next:  Forgiveness and Weight Loss

Eat What You Love

Sometimes we use food as a way to beat ourselves up, especially when we’re dieting.  Food, and our thoughts around food, can be a way for us to punish ourselves and to keep ourselves deprived of what we really want.  When we’re dieting, it becomes easy for us to think of food in terms of “good” and “bad,”  or “should” and “should not.”  We think we “should” eat carrots sticks and celery and cauliflower, or we think we “should not” eat chocolate or potato chips or butter.   We think we can’t trust ourselves around food.  We think that if we have one potato chip, then we will most certainly eat the whole bag.  We think if we have one brownie, then in an hour the whole pan will be gone.  We believe that having one spoonful of ice cream will lead to the disappearance of the entire carton.

For the first 45 years of my life, I looked at food as something that controlled me.  If food was around and available, I would eat it.  And it wouldn’t even really matter what what kind of food it was,  or if I even really liked it.   I grew up thinking I had no “will power” around food.  I grew up thinking that I had no “self control” around food.  I grew up thinking that if food was there, I had no choice but to eat it.

In releasing weight through pleasure, one of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that I can give myself permission to eat foods that I enjoy, foods that truly bring me pleasure, to eat foods that taste delicious to me--and still release and maintain weight!  I’ve discovered that the more I consider what brings me deep pleasure, the more particular I am in what I put in my mouth.  And much to my surprise, not all foods are created equal.  

When I began to think in terms of pleasure, when I began to consider questions like “What will bring me the most pleasure?” I began to realize that I really like fresh fruit more than cold pizza.  I discovered that I like rich dark chocolate more than candy bars.  I realized that a fresh, delicious salad would bring me more pleasure than a bag of Doritos from the vending machine.  And I began to eat what I loved.  And surprisingly, as I began to eat only foods that tasted exquisitely delicious to me, I began to realize that I, in fact, did have more power over food than I thought.  I realized that I, indeed, have many choices, many options, and when I choose the one that will bring the the most pleasure, I’m less likely to find myself bingeing (and then suffering the inevitable guilt).

If you feel powerless around food, if you feel like you have no control and no will power when it comes to what you put in your mouth, here’s a challenge.  

For the next seven days, eat only foods that you love and adore.  

Don’t compromise.  Don’t settle.  Don’t give in just because it’s there.  

If you’re faced with food that you don’t love and adore, don’t eat it!  

Eat only foods that bring you pleasure. 

Next up:  “Exercise Is Such a Drag!”

The Power of Curiosity

Being curious about life is more fun than feeling than feeling overwhelmed by the “should’s” in life.

When I set the intention to release weight several years ago, I was very curious about how my life would change.  I began to wonder.  

“I wonder what will happen when I get in really great shape.”

“I wonder how my life will be different when I release this weight.”

“I’m curious about how I’ll feel when I start moving my body regularly.”

“I wonder what will really happen to my life when my body weight is in a healthy range.”

“I’m curious to see how eating well will make me feel.” 

Being open to curiosity and wonder was a new way of thinking about my life and my body.  The more curious I became about the whole weight release process, the more fun I had on the journey.  I began to really take great pleasure in food rather than mindlessly putting food in my mouth.  I began to be very aware of my senses during my my daily walks.  I began to enjoy a heightened sense of energy and a more positive view of my life as I explored my sense of curiosity and wonderment.  The more I wondered about what would happen when I released weight, the more weight I released.

If you feel like you might like to lose a few pounds but are stuck, or if you feel like you “ought” to lose weight or “should” eat more healthfully, but just can’t seem to motivate yourself, try thinking about your body and weight loss goals in terms of “I’m curious about. . . .” or “I wonder what will happen when. . . .”  

Sometimes a gentle shift in our thinking is all it takes to create an amazing life!

Up Next:  Eat What You Love

Emotional Eating

A little child is riding her bike.

She falls off.

She skins her knee.

She comes running in the house, crying for her mother.

“Mommy!  Mommy!  I hurt my knee!”

“Oh, honey,” her mother replies.  “I’m sorry.  Here, darling.  Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Her mother washes off her knee and puts a Mickey Mouse bandage on it.  

The tears stop.

“Here we are, sweetie.”  She gives her daughter a hug.  “Have a cookie.  It’ll make you feel better.”

We learn, very early on, to connect food with feeling.  We believe, from a very early age, that food can assuage pain.  We learn that food can comfort us when we’re scared, soothe us when we’re anxious, cheer us up when we’re blue, and make us happy when we’re sad.  But can it, really?

Is it really the cookie that makes a little girl stop crying, or is it the love of her mother? 

Is it really food that gives us comfort, or is it the sympathetic ear of a friend?

Is it really food that soothes us, or is it a gentle hug from a spouse?

Is it really food that cheers us up when we’re blue, or is it a matter of changing our perspective?

Is it really food that makes us happy, or is it simply being heard and understood by someone who cares?

So many times, throughout my life, I looked to food for emotional satisfaction.  I looked to food for happiness, comfort, joy, celebration, stress-relief, etc.   Every emotion I had, good or bad, positive or negative, high or low, I used food to manage through it.  

Then I heard someone talk about going to the hardware store for milk, which is what I had been doing most of my adult life.  I had been looking at food for something it couldn’t ever give me.  I had been going to the hardware store for milk.

Today, I continually ask myself, “Am physically hungry or emotionally hungry?”   If I’m physically hungry, I eat.  And I pay close attention to my feelings of fullness and satisfaction.  And most of the time, I stop when I’m full.   However, if I’m emotionally hungry, I know that no amount of food on the planet will ever, ever be enough.

Up Next:  The Power of Curiosity