I have taken a hiatus this past week from dwelling on things weight-loss. It has been wonderful. I can’t say that I have eaten more than in previous weeks, in fact I was down a pound from the past couple of weeks. I needed to take a break. I was stressing out and it took my mom telling me to “not think about it” for a while to realize that I was in full swing obsession.
I’m going to carry on for at least another week of just being thankful for my body, taking every angry or frustrated thought about my weight and turning it into a simple prayer of thanksgiving and letting it go. It feels a LOT better than what I was doing before. We’ll see…
I have no good ideas at this particular moment, but now is the time I have the availability for blogging. I am folding my laundry, which is strangely a good time to think, and type a few words between items.
The theme for this month is Letters, but I don’t yet have any cool or hip or even vaguely interesting method to it. I think the simple effort of posting on a daily basis will be sufficient. 🙂
That’s all for now…
I am really, really sorry. I have really hated you for some time now. You are the visible evidence of my humanity. You are my in-the-mirror proof that I am not all that I imagine myself to be. You are the end result of my poor choices.
Yet you continue to be exactly as designed. You have no other choice but to react to what I choose. You are faithful. You are a gift. You are the physical representation of all that is Lundie. I don’t know what it’s going to take for me to treat you as you deserve.
I am sorry that our relationship has been so unbalanced. Just as my marriage requires a dynamic balance and periodic adjustments so neither party is unfairly overburdened – so too, I believe if we are to remain united, that same respect and consideration is warranted. Funny, it wasn’t until just now that I realized it.
And with that, I am going to close, so you may have the rest that you need.
Part of my NaBloPoMo participation this month, and inspired by a BlogHer Challenge.