Time will always feel like a luxury, but that doesn’t mean that it is impossible to get ahead of the game. Preparation has been my best tool of surviving what some might deem the social awkwardness that comes along with a Celiac Disease diagnosis. With the onset of Wheat Belly fame, I have had a few people in my social circle come out and say that wheat doesn’t treat them so sweetly either. Their second confession is that they find it very difficult to eat wheat and gluten free, when a pastry and a traditional sandwich is always readily accessible. And to that I must say that preparation and planning goes a hell of a long way. Building up an arsenal of good clean eats, start small, it is a surefire way to keep your belly and body happy.
Even the best laid plans run into roadblocks. I started my celebration early this month and got quite smug with myself after a barrefit class. Of all things I threw my hip and lower back out trying to wrangle a sick cat into a carrier for a vet visit. It’s funny how delicate and fleeting the body is even when you are admist feeling on top of your game. Four days of committed movement is a huge feat for me considering walking around the block or a casual half hour on a stationery bike was a big deal just a month and a half ago. Last week I hit up three out of my allotted four movement classes in the face of a silly yet painful injury. I spent hours beating myself up this week thinking I should have pushed myself more, feeling even a bit of shame knowing that I didn’t meet my goal. There are so many colloquial phrases to draw from here, for me “you are your own worst enemy” flashed to the fore. To say the least, I lost sight of being gentle and realistic with myself. Even with all of the planning in the world, life will still throw you a curveball.
Thankfully I had a very wise man at my side when I tried to awkwardly step into my athletic gear and hobble out the door. His words quickly silenced my frantic thoughts – “sometimes you need to let yourself win”.
Returning to dedicated movement has it ups and downs, but most definitely it has brought into focus the importance of taking the time to slow down. As with most things in life it is easier said than done.
For me this week has been about reconciling excuses with self-care. I for one am frequently haunted by my obligations to people, activities, jobs – the usual suspects. But, what trumps it all is my obligation to myself to be busy. As much as I love peace and quiet, I often sneak in a solitary activity in to soothe my restless nerves during my down time.
For so many people I know, the fall and early winter is all about keeping your head down and working hard. Challenging yourself to meet goals, professionally, personally is an important part of growth, but a surefire way to flirt with burn out. I mentioned in an earlier post about my own burn out in a past job, since then I have gotten better at taking time for myself. This is certainly not a new, but I am finally taking on the treat yo’self attitude that is captured in this great comedic moment.
Despite the soon onslaught of Moustaches, being just two days away from November has me thinking about the Divine Feminine thanks to my dear friend Sarah. Between her DIY bucket list, skipping across the pond to live the expat life and spearheading a virtual book club – our long overdue hangout earlier this month left me with a reinvigorated to find pleasure and purpose in the little things.
I cook each and every day without fail – no excuses. For the sake of my health and my wallet it just doesn’t make sense for me to eat out on a regular basis. But, I still manage to take the “easy way out” and buy certain things at the grocery store. That got me pondering low effort, high yield possibilities that give the illusion of convenience. Soaking nuts overnight, a blitz in the blender and a press through a sieve. If that’s not easy I don’t know what is.
**Disclaimer** This post was meant to be out in early June – funny how springing forward brings me to the beginning of August
Lately, I’ve been pondering the flexibility of eatin’ in season – does the far-reaching California or Florida avocado really line up with the gospel of the widely admired Michael Pollan? The temporal nature of vegetables, fruits and relationships all seem to be trumping any thoughts of summer shenanigans. With a thoughtless neighbour dismembering my rhubarb plant and my hometown of Thunder Bay pounded with snowstorm after snowstorm, I have resorted to farmer’s markets and the local grocery store for my rhubarb fix. This year’s spring with its irksome constitution and wily ways has me feeling a bit discombobulated, a feeling I can’t seem to shake even now in August. Every which way I turn (Toronto, Montreal, NYC, Muskokas) I managed to get soaked, nearly blown away on the streets or alternatively frozen to the bone in some instances. Spring has a funny way of reminding us that even if for only a moment, everything will change.
My name is Taryn and I have been guilty of putting work first….
I would like to think of it merely as a moment of brazen dedication, but truthfully it was an oversight.
While sports, long hours and accounting came to the fore, the relaxed tending of the stove fell to the eleventh hour as I lurched ahead of the rat race to nowhere. It is quite possible that so too did part of my spark and soul.
Here I am hoping against hope that the food and the sentiment will speak for itself.
The inevitable wincing at missteps and words misspoken alike will hopefully inch me closer to cooking and writing with grace.