I’m sending this weekend reading out into the world from a hectic Sunday, which also happens to be an underslept Sunday. The combination of those two things means that I’m short on words, but last weekend’s post—which wasn’t short on words—did leave me with some follow up thoughts.
Two of them aren’t my thoughts. They’re impressions and observations that readers were kind and good enough to share with me. Libby wrote,
I don’t know that we are ever finished with anything. We have growth spurts and setbacks, circle back to something. I think many of us eventually get to a point where some old stuff just can’t hurt us anymore. We won’t let it. And the part that is heartening and reassuring is that we acquire ways of solving problems and dealing with things along the way so that when we find ourselves back in a bad situation that we thought we conquered, we have new ways of dealing with old problems.
What an honest, humble, and truthful expression of what it means to keep doing our work, recognizing that things may feel cyclical but they never really are. We come back to our stuff with a new perspective, or a part of us becomes tough enough that things that might have felt devastating in the past are less so. Libby’s words made me think of a favorite Pema Chödrön quotation (which I’m sure I’ve shared before, so forgive the reiteration):
We think that the point is to pass the test or overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.
Of ED recovery in particular, Rebecca wrote,
For me, the most difficult — but also the most enlightening — part of the process of ‘recovery’ and ‘wellness’ has been coming to the understanding that, in fact, recovery and wellness sometimes do involve doing exactly what you describe: putting one foot in front of the other despite the struggle. It’s natural to want not to struggle, but it’s actually NOT natural NOT to struggle.
So much truth here, too. The further I move into recovery, the more I reckon with how workmanlike it can feel at times, the process of waking up and going about the business of being in my body even if the old voices are screaming at me. It’s so much less idealized than what I thought my longterm recovery experience would be, but I’m coming to appreciate how much grit it takes to face the everyday when things feel tough. And I can give myself credit for that—the quiet determination to keep on keeping on.
Right now, I’m experiencing for a second time something that I experienced as a post-bacc student. Back then, for the first time in my life, I simply didn’t have the energy to restrict. I didn’t really have the impulse or desire, either—I was pretty solid in my recovery then. But even if I’d desperately wanted to flirt with cutting back portions or becoming selective about what I would or wouldn’t eat, I actually couldn’t. Too much was at stake, and too much was being asked of me, for me to drain my own reserves of energy.
It’s the same way now. Even if love of eating didn’t keep my feet planted in recovery, the DI is demanding enough that being cavalier about nourishment isn’t an option. I need fuel, and I need food as a source of pleasure and relief, too. I’m accustomed to forgoing “control” of what I eat in the service of healing, but right now, control isn’t even an option. It’s humbling and unnerving, and it’s freeing, too.
Those are my thoughts. And speaking of the DI, it’s time to get myself ready for a new week of my work and my studies. Wishing you a good one—and here are the recipes and reads that caught my eye in the last seven days.
Who doesn’t need a ridiculously versatile, savory sweet autumn tahini sauce?
I’m dying to make Jenn’s taco spaghetti for my next comfort food supper.
I love the contrast of tender noodles and super crispy tofu in this noodle satay dish.
These black bean jerk tacos are so simple to make. I can definitely imagine them becoming a breakfast staple for me!
And for dessert, ’tis most definitely the season for a pumpkin spice cupcake.
1. Good perspective on how our well-intentioned efforts to craft perfectly productive, perfectly full days may keep us from touching the deeper rhythms of human experience.
2. A lovely essay on what poetry can teach physicians.
3. An inspiring profile of a psychiatrist who’s trying to implement better mental health care around the world.
4. An important reminder—one that I needed this week—on how instrumental imperfection and error (aka the willingness to be “bad” at something) is to learning any new skill set.
5. Finally, track and field athlete Lauren Fleshman’s letter to her younger self has been getting a lot of attention. As soon as I read it, I understood why—so self-compassionate and so encouraging to read.
Happy Sunday, friends. This week, a favorite new, savory make-ahead breakfast option!
It feels so strange to be typing “2015” as a part of these posts! How time flies. I hope that everyone has enjoyed this first weekend of the new year. I’m back from Vieques, and while I miss it, I can’t say I’m not happy to be immersed in a cityscape again. It’s also a joy to be reunited with my kitchen. Like many folks, I love to mix up and invigorate my culinary routine in January, and the following recipes have inspired me already….
Happy sunday morning, friends. I’m in New York, spending some time with my bestie, Chloe, who’s in town to help prepare for her little sister’s wedding. It’s been dry and sunny and not-too-hot here, which is a delightful change from last week’s heat wave in D.C. I hope you’ve had nice weekends. Here are some recipes and reads to enjoy as you transition into Monday. Coffee freak that I am, I’m sort of perpetually on the hunt for a perfect vegan coffee creamer….
A couple of days ago one of my yoga teachers messaged me to say that she missed seeing me in class. No pressure, she assured me, but she and the other members of that class (it’s a tight-knit weekend group) missed seeing my face. I hadn’t been going to that class as regularly as usual: a combination of being busy, being down, and being a little bit isolated. The text didn’t make me feel pressured; I was touched to receive it, and it…
I often read about the power of choosing one’s thoughts, or something along those lines: shifting perspective, flipping the script, quieting negative self-talk, and so on. It sounds so compelling and empowering, yet so elusive. Most of the time, I feel that my thoughts choose me. I often wish—especially when they’re particularly exhausting—that they’d choose someone else. Once in a while, I’m able to choose different thoughts, or to change a gloomy perspective. The amount of effort that it takes to do this…