I find that a lot of what I blog about has to do with changes–inspiration for new changes, lists of things to do, renewed commitments to myself. I’m just the type of person that loiters in the self help section of bookstores, and I love a good makeover.
So here we go again.
My therapist is a tiny, quiet woman. She doesn’t say much, but when she does it’s notable. A bit ago, she scolded me (gently) about a couple changes I need to make moving forward. She told me to get my butt to the gym and work up a sweat at least twice a week, to spend as much time outside (no easy feat since my office has no windows), and to eat healthy.
This, combined with various drugs and remedies, is supposedly the magic cure for my winter (and by winter, I mean the entirety of 2011) blues.
So I’ve made some minor changes and am trying to recognize the differences. I’ve been dancing regularly with my sorority, which both makes me happy and makes me sweat. With daylight savings, I’m able to get some sunshine on my walk home, and have allowed myself to take mini “smoking” breaks in the parking lot–I don’t actually smoke, but I soak up some much needed sunlight. I’ve also been fake tanning to soak up more concentrated Vitamin D; just spare the me cancer lectures (I know I’m retarded. I just don’t care very much). And I’ve actually gone back to being vegetarian the past week and a half. For me, avoiding meat (except seafood) makes me feel cleaner, fresher, less bogged down by oils and grease.
She also made a point to emphasize that whatever I choose to do or not do, it is the right choice. It’s okay to call in sick because I can’t will myself out of bed. It’s okay to quit my job if it means spending more time on myself. It’s okay to spend hours meditating in the Buddha room of the MFA and freaking out all the European tourists.
It’s all about the little things… about finding something that makes me happy, no matter how small, and doing it. So, I’m finding my bliss, cost be damned. The first thing was buying myseld a David Yurman ring that set me back more than I pay for rent. But I don’t regret a single penny. Every time I look down at my hand, it serves as a gentle (and sparkly!) reminder to love myself.
Things have been really great at work, too; I’ve been writing quite a bit. I hadn’t realized until now that I haven’t written a whole lot lately. I’ve run a magazine, I’ve been a doormat, but I’d lost touch with actually writing. I’ve also found an apartment full of guys that I genuinely care about. I can go over there, settle down with spicy chips and my beverage of choice, and “bro” out watching college basketball or MXC.
Now all I need is a two month vacation, a monthly yoga membership, a machaca burrito, a puppy and a lifetime supply of mani/pedis and I’ll be good.