Day Nine: Why This Might Not Work For Me

I'm on the ninth day of my vegetarian experiment. I am loving it. I'm enjoying the food, I feel great, and I don't miss meat.

But there is one reason I have found that this might not work for me. Here it goes:

I am extremely relational. That is, I value relationships above everything else. To tell the truth, I am fairly picky about most things, when left to my own devices. But when it comes to relationships, all of that goes out the window. I have watched movies that I never would have watched on my own and tv shows that I really didn't like, eaten things I wouldn't have made for myself, and gone places that I wouldn't normally choose to go to, just to spend time with people. It's not that it feels like a sacrifice (although, after episode number gazillion of the Simpsons, it has certainly approached sacrifice level); it's just that compared to the value of spending time with people I love, I just don't care that I end up doing things I don't like.

One of my absolute favorite things to do anywhere is sit around a table with people I love, or people I am going to love, or anybody and share a meal, stories, and laughter. Sometimes this means I eat dinner at somebody else's house. Last night, I ate dinner at my pal, Jaimie's, house. I originally said that I would come after dinner, because I am experimenting with vegetarianism, and I don't want to "be a pain in the butt." (That is a quote.) She told me she knew that, but still wanted me to come to dinner, I said I would make an exception and eat the meat, she said no, and I went to dinner.

But while I was sitting there, eating my meat-free meal (and it was yummy), I just felt like I was missing out on the piece of the community experience. There is magic in sharing a meal around a table. If you think about it, you might know what I mean. And I just felt like, by opting out of part of the meal, I was also opting out on a little of the magic. The community experience.

Ten Reasons Why My Husband is My Favorite Person on this Planet

1. He lets me be me. I don't know how this is for everyone, but as a "pastor's wife," I find that sometimes people place a lot of varying expectations on me. Tim does not do that. For him, there's no mold. He wants me to be me, because as he says, the church is better for it if I am myself. How freeing is that!

2. He's adventurous. I can't live a satisfying life without some adventure. This guy knows adventure. Before we were married, we went sky diving and jumping his car off of "ramps," but the clincher was when I asked him where he would be willing to live. He said anywhere. Anywhere in the United States, or anywhere? Anywhere. I was sold (ok, I was also "sold" on a number of other occasions, as well.)

3. He's passionate. About his job, the church, his family, and learning.

4. He supports my ideas, despite the fact that those ideas are many and often changing. Some of those idea include publishing, holding dinner parties, planting herbs, learning to sew/knit/bake bread/make hummus, buying a little black pig, buying a goat, adoption, holding a community kitchen, starting a themed co-written blog, and going vegetarian. Not all of those ideas come to fruition, but Tim is willing to back me on anything that does come about.

5. He knows me better than anyone else, and still chooses to think I am great.

6. He really loves people.

7. He is committed to our marriage.

8. He is certainly the better communicator between the two of us, and things get worked out when we argue.

9. He makes me a better person. To name a few ways this is true: I am more patient, more self-confident, carrying fewer issues (including anger and bitterness), and more free since we began our relationship.

10. Just because he is my husband. Of course we both love each other, and then we are human and imperfect. But he is my partner in this adventure called life, and I'm so grateful for that.

Thumbs Up, Thumbs Down

Today is day two.

So far, the only thing I have not been pleased with about all of this is is this:

Thumbs down. Cherry Pie Lara bars are just not my thing.



Everything else, I like. It seems like being conscious of not eating meat and why I'm not eating meat has made me more conscious in other areas, as well. During the last two days, I haven't been putting artificial sweeteners into my body (this is notable, but it will be even MORE notable if I can keep it up for the entire 30 days...and beyond?).

Also, I stopped at the grocery store today for some veggie burgers to bring to tonight's pool party (everyone else will be eating hot dogs and hamburgers), and I came across three treats I wanted to try: coconut milk ice cream, Namaste baking mix (for brownies or blondies? Who can decide?), and Sunspire chocolate chips. I decided to choose one (after all, I still have a grocery budget to keep) After some contemplation (I take my food seriously, people!), I decided on the chocolate chips because they're more versatile, and they're fair trade. Yes, they're about two times as much as my usual bag of chocolate chips, but I know the people who helped produce them were paid fairly. So I buy fewer treats..I can handle that.

30 Days

Okay, here it is.

I've completed my 90-day trial period at work. I've somewhat transitioned into my "new normal." So, naturally, I'm ready for another change.

Vegetarianism. For 30 days.

It's something that has been rolling around in my mind for quite some time. But to be honest, I just did not want to sit down (or get up, drive, or any other action requiring extra effort on my part) to do the research I want to do or to plan meals and matching grocery trips.
I did not feel like I wanted to handle a major job change, corresponding changes at home, changes in my involvement at youth group, AND major changes in my diet.
I wanted convenience, thank you.

But here I am. Posing as a vegetarian for 30 days, in effort to see if this is something I want to sign on to. Mostly because I believe in thinking (and acting) globally, and belief is made evident through actions, not words.

So, here I go!

We're All Human Here

I'm feeling really good in my skin lately.

This is notable for a few reasons.

One of those is that I have had a habit of projecting my problems onto my body for somewhere around 13 years now. Feeling stressed, insecure, dissatisfied, inadequate, unsure? Call in a fat day! I've become convinced that "fat days" are nothing more than an easier way to deal with a deeper issue than "fat." Because, really, girls, you usually know if you've eaten too much broccoli or pizza, or if you-know-what is on the horizon. You know it'll pass and your belly will deflate.

But what if it doesn't? What if you're not thin or fit enough?

Thin enough for WHAT?

Usually the answer seems to be "thin enough to feel validated (because I don't feel validated in situation a, b, and c)." And that is what leaves me to believe that fat days are about something a little bit deeper.

Just a little. I've come to believe that life is too rich and beautiful to waste time blaming (berating?)my body. Sometimes I forget that; it can be a hard habit to break after over a decade of placing responsibilities on my body that it never should have been carrying.

I know I'm not the only one with habits like that to break.

It is way too easy to project negative feelings on things or even people that have no business weighing down on said things or people. Even unconsciously. Maybe especially then.

I know that the same person has said that the kids in my youth group are too serious because of Tim's personality AND that the kids are not serious enough, also because of Tim. On two separate occasions, of course.

This really irritated me. Really irritated me. The truth is that it is not all that hard to rile me up when it comes to those I love, and I had a hard time coming down off my high horse.

Until I realized that I place my own irritations in the wrong place quite often . (Refer to the above post if you're not quite sure where that is.)

Oh. We're all human here? Time to dismount.

A Short Letter and a Heavy Heart

Good morning:).
Have you ever seen Slumdog Millionaire? I saw it last night, and my heart is heavy. I don't want to spoil the movie if you haven't seen it but plan to, but it's some tough stuff. The thing is, I like the movies that depict how life really is BEST. They make me sad, but they are my favorite. Why do some people have to live like that, but we get to live like we do? Boo. My only real response so far has been to write a letter to my Compassion child, Puja, who happens to live in India, and send her a birthday gift. After that, I don't know, but it really brings the idea that I really have to be conscious of loving everyone I encounter throughout the day- no matter their demeanor- because I never know the life they have lived or are living.

Have you heard the phrase, "live simply, so others can simply live"? I believe that is important. But as I get older, it seems easier to settle into suburbia and think less about others and more about myself. Buying a car, buying a house. I don't think those things are wrong, but I do think we should live below our means "so others can simply live."

Freedom at 5 AM

This morning, I woke up at 5 am to the sound of Macey carving out new passageways in her club house (our box spring). I went to the bathroom, and then, because it is hard for me to follow asleep, I decided to stay up and get a jump on my day. Read a proverb, do the dishes, catch up on my blogs. (5 am may sound ridiculously early, but my actual wake-up time is only an hour later, and I come from a line of early-rising women. I have memories of waking up at the crack of dawn-and even before dawn- to the sounds of my grandmother preparing breakfast and other meals and doing housework. My mother seems to have been following in her footsteps.) Good idea, in theory. However, by the time it was too late to return to bed and catch a little more rest, I realized that I felt exhausted, definitely ready for a nap and not for the day ahead of me. Whoops.

Such is life. On other days, it might have worked. I did read that proverb, and I did catch up on some blogs (although, in my fatigue, I thought it best not to leave any comments, even if leaving comments was the original goal). I did not do the dishes. Poor Tim may be unable to find a clean knife later when he needs one. And although I can already hear you saying, “well, Tim can do the dishes!”, he’s been doing them, and it’s certainly my turn (and was several days ago!).

On other days, I might have laid a guilt-trip on myself about my failed plans, about the wasted time. I know that life is short, and I don’t want to waste time; I want to live out a rich and beautiful story. But it seems that (large and small) mistakes are part of the richness of life. I so often forget that life is a constant untangling of knots, of putting together puzzles, and exploring of corners. This, the idea that I can “start over” at any given moment, that I can be free of guilt trips, that I can stop obsessing with “what could have been,” has been one of the most freeing truths of my life.

I think I am finally beginning to understand grace.