Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

dreams

A list and a loss: one year of my life

Between April 4, 2018 and April 4, 2019, I lost almost 33 pounds.

I’m not supposed to tell you this. At least, that’s the vibe I get when I start talking about it in person. When people start to notice that I’ve lost weight, they all want to know the same thing:

How?

I get the sense that people are trying to figure out why it worked for me or why it hasn’t worked for them, whatever the “it” is they’ve tried. Maybe they are just curious and interested. Maybe I’m overthinking it.

The truth is I wish the changes to my body were more magical and easy than they were. In the last year, I made some hard decisions about my exercise routine and my diet, and when I look back on the journey, it was all of it worth it. But none of it was easy. Not the way I want it to be.

—

I turned 40 last year.

And I was tired of what was happening to my mind, my body and my soul. I was making choices, yes, but I also felt like I was letting circumstances and other people determine how my life was going to be. Mostly, it was just a matter of me needing to take action in my own life.

Photo by Glenn Carstens-Peters on Unsplash

That’s when I made a list of what I wanted my life to be about for the years 40 and beyond. It’s not a bucket list, because I don’t want the pressure of feeling like I have to accomplish this stuff before some undetermined end date of my life. It’s simply an after-40 list and on it are the things I don’t want to keep putting off for someday.

It’s been a year since I made the list. It’s a computer file that sits on my desktop, and I see it every time I open my computer. On the one hand, when I open it and look at all the checkmarks, I think maybe I could have accomplished more. But then I remind myself that the point is not to rush through everything on the list. It’s an in-progress document. I add things to it as I think of them. And I don’t delete the things that I’ve accomplished. I keep them there with a big checkmark next to them as a record of the positive changes and experiences I’ve had.

This last year has been mostly about my own health and wellness. For me, that is the foundation of all the other things.

My list is divided into categories: physical health; personal growth; travel; experiences; writing; and identity/heritage/family.

Physical health was a priority in the last year because I (like a lot of women I know) have spent years (maybe even an entire decade) taking care of other people and neglecting myself.  Years of therapy helped me to realize that I was worth taking care of, and that’s part of the reason I started the list. I need to see things in writing or in print to remember them. My brain is filled with too many words and ideas and thoughts to automatically remember what it is I want to do.

So, last year, around February, I started running again. My daughter has been participating in Girls on the Run and because I am her running buddy, I usually start training in the late winter/early spring so that I can complete the 5K with her. I committed to running a couple of times a week.

In years past, I tapered off after the 5K and didn’t keep running through the summer because a) it was hard to find time while the kids were home from school and b) heat and humidity is not my friend. But last year, I kept doing it. I think I took three weeks off in July because of schedules and heat but I stuck with it through the bulk of summer. I ran the 5K with my daughter, and then my husband and I ran one on Thanksgiving morning. A month ago, our family of four ran another 5K. And this year’s Girls on the Run 5K is coming up soon. 

Four 5Ks in the span of a year? I would have never thought it possible for me.

But running was just part of the story.

I was having issues with food and I suspected some problem areas but I wasn’t sure. After reading and planning, I decided to do a Whole30 in October. I won’t get into all the details here. You can read up on it yourself if you want, but I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that it was the single most transformative experience of the last year. It is a month-long food experiment that eliminates temporarily some common food groups that cause things like bloating or intestinal problems. It’s mostly meat, veggies, fruit and good fats.

Yes, it was difficult. But it was so beneficial I’m thinking about doing another one this summer. I learned about what foods my body can’t handle without negative consequences. I ate good food. I felt amazing. Like I had unlimited energy.

And I lost weight.

—

This is where it gets hard to talk about. I’m hyperaware of the body positivity (and negativity) messages out there, and I am working hard to change my way of thinking. I don’t believe my body (or yours) has to look a certain way for me (or you) to feel good or be a worthwhile person.

Photo by Taylor Smith on Unsplash

And I love my body more now than I ever have. I feel more like myself, and I’m amazed at what my body can do. These aren’t bad things, but I have to keep in mind that this is what’s true for me. It is not necessarily a prescription for everyone.

There are dresses in my closet I haven’t worn in years and when I put them on now I feel confident and sexy. I recently wore shorts for the first time in a year and when I held the pair that last year was tight I had a moment of dread. But when I put them on, there was room to spare in the waistline.

So I still have to wonder: do my clothes have too much power over my mood and self-worth?

I like what my body can do. I am consistently running 1-2 miles two or three times a week, and I’m getting faster. I’m not winded when I walk up and down stairs. And when I have a week that is more inactive than others, my body lets me know that’s not okay. (Hence the lower back pain I’ve been battling for a few days. Too much sitting recently.)

All of these are positives in my life, and sometimes I feel bad talking about them. It’s not my job to manage other people’s feelings. I want to be proud of the work I’ve done to get myself in a position to feel good about how I look. And I know there are dangerous lines that I could cross and that others do cross.

There must be a balance.

—

My health wasn’t all about losing weight, though.

I got my eyes checked and ordered new glasses for the first time in six years. And early in my 40th year, I made an appointment for a mammogram so I wouldn’t keep putting it off. I’m scheduling massages for myself on a regular basis. These are the kinds of self-care that I typically neglect.

And what about the other categories on my list? Here’s some of what I spent the last year doing:

In the personal growth category, I started playing guitar again last fall and have played half a dozen times or more in church on Sunday mornings. Our worship leader has helped me stretch my knowledge of music and how to play guitar with a band. (There have been tears, mine not hers, but I’m enjoying myself more now because of my new skills.)

In writing, I’ve given my own projects priority and entered contests to get feedback on my progress. I’m attending a writing retreat this summer. More things that could easily slip through the cracks if I don’t view them intentionally.

In family/identity/heritage, we got professional family photos taken in the fall, something we hadn’t done in almost 10 years. It was long overdue.

Photo by Rachel Lynn Photography

Travel and experiences are the two categories that don’t get as much immediate attention, mostly because they require larger amounts of money and effort and time. But even listing them where I can see them and refer back to them is helpful. It reminds me to make actual plans, not putting things off for someday. It gives me something to hope for.

—

I could easily be discouraged that I didn’t make more progress on my list this year, and I am disappointed by some things. Like I need a better method and plan for learning sign language so I can communicate with our niece. And Phil and I have the desire and plan to get ring tattoos so we can do something different with our wedding rings, but that hasn’t come to fruition yet. (I have another idea for a tattoo but mostly I’m a little bit scared.)

I could easily be discouraged that I didn’t make more progress on my list this year, and I am disappointed by some things. There was the race I didn’t run, for example. And I need a better method and plan for learning sign language so I can communicate with our niece. Phil and I also have the desire and plan to get ring tattoos so we can do something different with our wedding rings, but that hasn’t come to fruition yet. (I have another idea for a tattoo but mostly I’m a little bit scared.)

Overall, though, I lean toward satisfied and encouraged. 

The list items I accomplished this year were not grand in magnitude but they made a difference in my life and how I live it. Forward progress.

If there’s anything I want my after-40 life to be about it’s that it’s not too late. To change. To grow. To try something new. To pursue a dream.

I’m excited to see what the next year brings and what I can accomplish between now and then.

I hope you’ll stick around for the journey as well.

Finding the tune

It had been two months since I played my guitar. (You might remember that it had once been YEARS since I picked it up. That was in the fall and I started playing in public--on Sunday mornings in church, no less. It still feels weird to write that and say it.)

Photo by Ian Tormo on Unsplash

It’s a truth about me that if I don’t have a deadline or a scheduled reason, then some things just don’t happen. So with Christmas and our worship leader on break and then some health concerns in our family, there was no scheduled time for me to play and in my mind, no urgent need to practice. It wasn’t until earlier this month when I found myself back on the worship team schedule that I made myself start practicing again.

As I started practicing again, my fingers told me I should change my thinking. Typing hurt because any callouses I had built up in the fall from playing guitar were gone and my tender fingertips pressed the guitar strings two nights in a row. I was frantically practicing the songs I was scheduled to play the following weekend.

I am no gifted musician, just someone who learned how to play but can’t read music and can’t play bar chords because of my short fingers. I’m constantly googling how to play certain chords “easy” or what I can substitute. I know nothing about music theory so I use a chart I also found online to help me cheat my way to the right key.

I suspect that this is sort of normal for those who play guitar. I don’t think it’s a secret and even though these things sometimes make me feel like an imposter, I don’t think anyone who is singing along on Sundays would notice my methods. (One of my fears is that I sound screechingly horrible when I play. I think I would notice if that was the case, but honestly, when I’m playing, I can’t really hear how my instrument sounds. Maybe that’s a good thing?)

I was struggling with two songs that are songs I love and wanted to play but were proving a bit of a challenge for me. The first night I dragged my guitar to the living room to practice, I cringed the whole time, wondering why I had ever thought it was a good idea to play guitar for people (and okay, yes, for God). I pulled up music videos for the songs in question and tried to play along, but it wasn’t syncing like I would have hoped. I play be ear, which sounds impressive but really just means that I know how things are supposed to sound by listening not by looking at the chords or the notes and when it doesn’t sound “right” I get frustrated because I’m not sure what to do.

The second night of practice I was beating myself up again for being inadequate and lacking talent. I mean when you’re listening to Chris Tomlin and Matt Redman play and sing the songs you’re struggling with, that’s an easy thing to do. I’m not either of those guys nor is that my aim. I spent most of one day humming the tune of one of the songs in my head (and sometimes out loud) just to get familiar with it.

And then something clicked. I could hear it and I could play it. This synchronizing was a magical moment because then I began to believe that I could actually play the songs the way they were meant to be sung.

—

I’ve already established that I’m not a musician, per se, but I do love music and I think there are some important metaphors related to music that those of us who are not musicians can apply to our lives.

For example, I think there’s a soundtrack that accompanies us throughout our days. It might be a laugh track like from the “old days” of comedy shows. Maybe it’s more like a record scratching or skipping. Maybe there’s one note you can pick out and it reminds you of something familiar. Maybe it’ s a lullaby and it soothes you. Maybe it’s the kind of song that makes you dance.

I’m not talking about a literal song, although there are plenty of those. I’m still trying to grasp this idea myself. It’s one of those things I know when I see it or experience it. So, let me see if I can explain.

Some tasks are drudgery. I do not thrill at the prospect of laundry (I folded five loads one night recently. Ew.) or dishes or cleaning the bathroom. I do these things, not always as often as I should, because they need to be done. Like paying bills. They are part of the price of living. But I have to sometimes pump myself up to do them. Sometimes I play music to motivate my work. The peppier the better.

But there are other things I do that I could do even if I had little to no energy. Reading, for example. Almost always if I pick up a book, I can become more energized for the other parts of my life. Writing is another one of these things, once I actually convince myself to start.

These things are so ingrained in who I am that I don’t feel like I need to “listen” for the tune. They are soul songs I know so well that I can play them by heart.

But sometimes I have to listen more carefully for the tune that makes my heart sing. Lately, I’ve been finding it more often in connection. 

I have always felt a little bit like a bridge that brings people together. I think this is part of my personality makeup (Enneagram 9 stuff, if you’re into that), but I haven’t always known this about myself. But it’s become more apparent.

Let me tell you about a recent experience. Some of our students are learning about careers for a project, and one of our students had an interest in an area that one of my family members worked in. We were able to arrange a phone call, and I was so thrilled to see the student’s face almost literally light up when a connection was made between things they like to do and things my family member likes to do. It was confirmation that the student’s interest in this field was not only valid but quite possibly the THING they were meant to do with their life.

Photo by bruce mars on Unsplash

I don’t always leave work feeling like I could dance or skip but that day I did. I had found the tune of my heart, part of the song I was meant to sing with my life, and it was almost intoxicating.

I feel this, too, when I’m helping people tell their stories because I’m connecting them with readers. Sometimes when I end a client phone call, I have to get up and walk around or do something physical like folding laundry or washing dishes because I have so much adrenaline. (I’m not a thrill seeker at all. Not in the traditional sense. I get my thrills from meaningful work and authentic interaction. I don’t know if that makes me weird or just me.)

Maybe that’s what thrills me about writing and reading, too. A connection with a character or a reader or with my thoughts to the rest of life. 

—

Sometimes it’s hard to hear the song you were meant to sing because of static or noise or being too far from the source to get a good signal.

I know this all too well. The noise of daily life–the drudgery of the things we don’t like to do–can drown out the soul song. Distance from the Source of life can cause me to tune in to other songs that are not mine to sing. This is when I start to criticize my abilities or efforts or when I look at what others can do and wish that I could do that, too.

Photo by Mohammad Metri on Unsplash

Static, though. Interference. This is a big one. Stress. Trauma. Painful experiences. A history of talking badly about yourself or believing lies told you by someone you trusted. These can make the soul song almost impossible to hear.

I don’t know the path for you, but counseling was the path for me. After a long and sometimes painful process, I was able to tune down the static and begin to hear the tune of something lighter and freer. Even then, in those first days of hearing it, my steps were tentative and my “dancing” was mostly internal. But the more I heard the song, the harder it was to resist.

Do you know those songs that make you tap your foot almost without thinking? The ones that make you want to shake your booty even if you’re pushing a shopping cart through the grocery store? That’s what this soul song is like for me. I can’t help myself when I hear it. I talk faster and my eyes widen and sometimes I’m practically shouting my enthusiasm. Occasionally I will forget that I’m even talking to anyone else about this, and sometimes my husband will tell me how attractive I am in these moments. I assume it’s because I am so fully alive and free. Maybe I should ask him.

That’s the power of the soul song.

But only you can hear it. Only you know what the tune sounds like for you. If I could wish anything for anyone it would be to have the chance to clear the distractions and the static and the noise, to do the hard work to listen for the soul song and then dance.

To be fully alive is my goal these days, and I don’t always meet that goal, but I know now that it’s the only thing I really want. Does that mean my life is free of drudgery? No. But it does make the ordinary days more than bearable.

One day, I am practically flying when I leave work and the next I am grumbling at having to shovel snow from my driveway at 7 in the morning. But I will keep listening for the song and go where it leads me.

—

Would it surprise anyone to learn that it’s easier to hear the tune in a group? I had almost no problems following along when it came time to practice with the worship team.

It can be that way with our soul songs, too. I have been most in tune with the song of my heart when I have found others who are living their soul songs out loud. I have found it with the caseworkers tirelessly advocating for refugees. With the teachers who give middle school students everything they have every day. With friends who are passionately pursuing their purpose, even when it costs them (money, time, family).

I should mention that sometimes I didn’t know what I was passionate about until I saw other people living their passions. If you’re reading this and thinking you have no idea what your soul song even sounds like, maybe you just need to hang out or observe people who do. Soul songs recognize each other, I think, and stir when they hear each other.

Listen for the tune. Remove the noise. Dance to your song.