smile

Give Me Five

Posted on by Diana

In the midst of a cold, average Monday, it’s a bit more difficult to remember the bright spots of last week. Anyone agree?

But if I take just one breather to reflect, I can refocus and remember not only cheerful moments but the ones that made me crack up, smile, and just feel good. In fact, here are five quick snippets that come to mind:

  1. I say the exact phrase “peanut butter is the love of my life” to our COO. No joke.
  2. A friend acts out the demise of a chocolate bunny to our small group – consisting of twisting the neck and making a sound similar to a stifled sneeze.
  3. The woman who prepared dinner at Central Community House (that we just served) runs out to the piano to sing a five minute version of “Happy Birthday” to her daughter that is completely improvised. She dances around the keys. 🙂
  4. After setting up an egg hunt, we watch a little girl so confused by the fact that there is individual candy AND plastic eggs that she throws her bag down to yell “Y’all are crazy!” to kids and parents who are not at all listening.
  5. Dad laughing a bit uncontrollably at one of my sister’s inevitable puns when the fam is together for Easter. The best. ❤

Your turn! Give me five. I’m already feeling better…and I know you will too.

No Matter the Bruises

Posted on by Diana

Warning: This post is a bit different, a bit darker than the norm. But after having saved this draft for over a year, I think it’s time to share.

I do not know and will never claim to know everything about eating disorders. All I know are my own set of experiences and feelings.

I know what it feels like to stare in disbelief across the kitchen counter. To see so many open jars, empty wrappers, used utensils. Crumbs everywhere. What just happened? It feels like waking up from a dream, only it’s real and it’s actually a nightmare. The sharp, intense, familiar pain in my stomach emerges through my food haze. I don’t know how much I’ve eaten. I don’t want to know. I double over. I feel sick. I feel guilt. So much guilt. So much anger.

I know what it feels like to kneel, hugging the toilet seat, and cry. Cry for what I’ve just done. Silently hoping and praying that flushing will simultaneously erase this incident, and the last incident, and the time before that. It doesn’t. I should feel better for reversing what I just ate, right? I don’t. I cry harder. But I must stop, I must be quiet, the bathroom exhaust only drowns out so much sound. I must rejoin my family celebrating my birthday, or my friends back at the restaurant table before they start to wonder where I am. They cannot know. I dry my eyes, blow my nose, look in the mirror. I hate what I see.

I know what it feels like to be a girl obsessed. No, not with a man or a job, but with food. To count, and count, and count. To see every food item as a number. The number of calories it has, the number in which it ranks on the scale between good and bad foods, the number my total calories consumed would increase to if I would consume said item. When I don’t know, I open my phone calculator and do some quick math. After every meal. I smile, I actually feel joy, when the total at the end of the day is a 3 digit number. I pretend not to notice my physical exhaustion, dizziness, spaced-out mind at work.

I know what it feels like to promise myself tomorrow. To promise myself the future. I know what it feels like to finally open up to family and a few close friends about the truth. To see their disbelief, their tears, and most importantly, their shared feelings, if any. So many of us suffer from an unhealthy relationship with food. And beyond that, we are all struggling with something, someTHINGS really. I am not alone. I’ve always known that. What I didn’t know is that I would suffer from this. I also didn’t ever think I’d be where I am today. Not cured, not completely healthy, but better. There are slip-ups, but they are fewer. I smile just typing that.

I smile when I think of how thankful I am for self-confidence boosts, encouraging words, and big hugs at just the right time (whether they knew or not) from people I am so so so lucky to live life with. I smile when I think of songs that have saved me, and difficult prayers that I’ve finally had the courage to speak. I smile when I reflect on the times my thoughts were not consumed with food, but instead with the moment at hand. I smile when I think of the times I’ve been driving to a restaurant, or family party, and I’m not scared of my diet. I smile when I know now that this does not define me, but it is merely a part of my story. My hope is that if you’re reading this that you can smile today thinking about small victories on your own journey – whether it’s been similar to mine or not at all.

Publish. Don’t publish. Publish. Listen to MercyMe. Close eyes. Breathe. Smile.

Publish.

Challenge Accepted.

Posted on by Diana

Who here loves the smell of a new car? You know, that rich, leathery, soothing-yet-overpowering scent that oozes when you stick your head inside a brand new car for the first time? …It just might be the best. So it’s no surprise it’s one of the reasons I absolutely love driving my first ever, month-old new car around town. One of many, but it’s definitely up there.

I know I’m not alone in this because when I shared with friends and coworkers about my new wheels, many paused for a second to ask with a smile, “Does it smell like a new car?!” But I’d barely get an answer in before they’d respond, “You’ll get used to it.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

Okay technically they are correct. We are habitual creatures and our senses quickly adapt to our surroundings. We live in routine and we like routine. Some time ago, I heard it only takes two weeks for something to become a habit. (Who knows if that was a trusted source but it sounds right!) But what if we – what if I – do not wish to “get used to” the smell of my new car? Each time I heard this response, the stubborn part of my personality switched in gear. I won’t get used to it! I’ll show them! Challenge accepted.

And sure enough, I am making more of a conscious effort to really breathe in each time I sit behind the wheel, and take a moment to enjoy, well, the moment. I can’t say it happens every time, but even on short trips to Kroger or driving the extra block to park in German Village during Sunday brunch hours, I’ve forced my thoughts to come back to the smell, the car, the engine, that minute. Someday, it won’t be the same as it is right now.

And this doesn’t stop with the divine smell of automobile materials. Let’s not get used to the feeling of coming home after a long day, wherever that may be. Let’s not get used to the smiles we share with coworkers each morning on our way for more coffee. Let’s not get used to summer nights, sunsets from patios, good morning texts, laughter at the family dinner table, kisses from grandma, hugs from our very best friends. Someday, it won’t be the same as it is right now.

Is it possible to break our human habits? Think outside of daily routine? Breathe in the moment for just one second? I’m up to the challenge.

Go Ahead

Posted on by Diana

I’m not sure if this has ever happened before.

This morning, I’m standing on the corner waiting to cross the street to work and humming along to the song I’m listening to. And then the lyrics that happen to include “go” play in my ears at the exact moment the walk sign changes to the ever-familiar man, arms and legs outstretched. I mean, seriously, the timing could NOT have been more in sync.

“Go.”

And as I stepped onto the pavement, I stopped for two thirds of a second, I grinned right then and there, looked up in the middle of the street, bangs tangled in the humid morning air, trying not to drop my lunch/coffee/purse for the day. I felt like spinning around. I looked up to see 10 seconds on the timer, so I went with my better judgement.

But that tiny fraction of a moment stuck with me all day. I tried to think of what this ‘symbol’ could mean, just for fun. Go for it? On the go? Let go? I experienced feelings relating to each of those phrases today, and each time I again remembered that small but powerful and inspiring coincidence this morning.

What is inspiration? One definition I like is “the process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something, especially to do something creative.” It does not have to be drastic, but just a thought that you want to do something with, to act upon, to wrestle within your mind. Sometimes we search for inspiration, sometimes we just come across it, and sometimes we get to go ahead and create our own.

It Takes 2 to Tango, But 1 to Polka

Posted on by Diana

I have this sweater. I’ve had this sweater for many years now. It’s one of my favorites. It’s comfy but dressy if I want it to be, and best of all it has these big turquoise polka dots on it. It’s great for a quick outfit because, well, it makes the outfit. Knowing me I’ll probably throw another pattern with it but the polka dots still take precedence.

So naturally I reached for it yesterday morning because I’d slept in a little too late to sift through my closet, and it was Monday, and sometimes you just need a bit of an extra boost in addition to that first cup of coffee. 

Fast forward to about 2pm as I’m headed towards the break room at work singing Viva La Vida in my head (because what better playlist to listen to on a Monday than one titled “Uplifting Pop Motivation”). While fighting the urge to hum along to Coldplay and filling my tumbler with 75% ice/25% water, a coworker of mine breaks my concentration to say that she loves my sweater. I smile and say thanks and explain that it’s a bit aged, but she continues to express her love for polka dots. She says that without fail polka dots brighten her day.

I’m thankful for her compliment, but more than that her comment makes me think. What is my “polka dot?” What is something that always, hands-down, no matter what makes me smile? Do I have more than one? Does it vary per day? Is it something or can it be someone?

There are so many moments I love in life. But most of the time I’m smiling – and I mean the authentic, eye-crinkling, cheek-burning kind of smile – it’s in response to one of the many amazing people I’m honored to know. New goal? Each day to be a polka dot for someone else. To brighten a moment without fail, without expectation, without an angle •

Begin Again

Posted on by Diana

Tonight I ran for the first time after a hiatus of about 2.5 months. And seeing as I’m getting over a cold and I let myself get out of shape, I was pretty proud of my much-shorter-than-usual 1.0 mile run.

I almost forgot how much I love running at night. It’s just me, my thoughts, and of course my music. (Honestly half the time, it’s my favorite songs that keep me going). I get to shut out the world for a few minutes but at the same time embrace every part of it.

Can’t wait to get back into my running routine. Maybe we all need that daily break -even if it’s not running – from our hectic lives. I know I do.