Slowly, slowly

I've been feeling anxious lately - perhaps the coupling of too much on my plate with the attempts at coming to terms with a lot of things going on with my family. But I'm trying to think about myself and understand what I'm going through instead of stifling and ignoring everything.

The cooking has been helping as it's a constructive, creative way to spend my time. In spite of the fact that it's food-related, I'm able to enjoy the effort and the meal afterwards without bingeing on unfood (junk that has no nutritional value other than comfort and pounds gained). I've missed cooking! And to be able to do it just for me is new. Previously, I only enjoyed cooking for someone else, the enjoyment came from sharing the meal, watching them savor the tastes, giving something. But cooking for just me is a whole new love!

I'm also aware of the fact that the exercise I've been doing is both for my body and my mind. If I focus on it not as a means of punishment, of removing the calories I've ingested throughout the day, of losing weight to get to a perceived happier place, it feels more like a way to just feel good. So basic but so true. To move because I can. To relieve stress and help me to sleep better. To enjoy the wind on my face or the oxygen filling my lungs or the blood pumping through my limbs.

Slowly I'm becoming the person I want to be. On my own.

Today I'm grateful for: the American robin with its big reddish belly, bundles of tulips spread throughout the house, sandalwood candles, Charlie starting to use her front paw a little more often, eating with chopsticks