COMING AROUND AGAIN: February 2008

The Baby Boy Finds His Toes!

In an otherwise rather banal and prosaic February, a definite high point was Baby Boy Fletcher's finding his toes, feet, and mouth AND his efforts to connect the bottom parts to the top! Put him down on his back and both legs go up in the air, creating a rather 90-degreeish angle. Then a smile takes over his entire face and the hands grab for the feet as the feet rotate towards the mouth. Almost! Oops! Got it - nope lost it again.

An especial treat is seen when changing the baby boy's diaper. As soon as his diaper comes off, he joyfully takes advantage of this unexpected opportunity - absolute freedom! No bulky encumbrances to impede him, away he goes, feet to mouth! The absolute delight in this act, minor as it may seem to we jaded adults, is evident in the sheer sparkle in his eyes, the wide and ecstatic grin on his face, the giggles and trills which escape from his mouth.

And I sit transfixed and watch this little person as if he were performing a double lung transplant one-handed. Actually it is ever so much more important and impressive than any surgery - it is a baby learning! A wonder and a miracle. Inexplicable. The grace of god.

WHAT ME? POWERLESS?

I was at a first step meeting last night and today I went to a big book meeting and the discussion was on powerlessness - again! I guess I needed to hear this, at least twice, if not every day. I know I am powerless against that first drink - this I know for sure. But what has been worrying me lately is that I am feeling like I am taking back my old life again. That maybe I have sufficient defense against that first drink after all these years. That relapse cannot happen to me. After all, I am working the steps right now with a newcomer so that should protect me, right?

And the longer I don't work my program, the more difficult I find it to jump back in. Yet when I do - I love it! The people in the rooms know me and love me in spite of myself. Even when they do not "know" me, they know me and care. Why is it sometimes so very difficult to accept this, do the "WE" part of step one.

Someone shared a wonderful metaphor today at the meeting. He was talking about being a kid and putting the baseball card on the spokes of a bike with a wooden clothespin. I remember doing that. It felt so sophisticated and so cool! But at some point all the spinning of the wheel, the going around and around, over and over, again and again, destroys the baseball card and it disintegrates or just falls away. And it occurred to me that that is what being an alcoholic is like - feeling sophisticated and cool at first, drinking to fit in, flying around in wild wonderful endless arcs. Then the wonderful starts to fade and the spinning gets faster and faster and yet never catches up again with that blissful feeling. Just like the once new and pristine baseball card could not go back to its original shape, color, form.

And then spinning, spinning, needing more and more alcohol to fuel the spins, stuck - going around and around, over and over, and again and again. Until I could not longer hold on to the spokes of my life: to myself.

Great metaphor! I guess that there is something to going to meetings! Dare I say "It works, if you work it?!"

An Homage to Joe Pilates

Pilates was "created" by Joseph Pilates during World War 1 as a system of physical movement to enhance the rehabilitation of returning war veterans. It was seen as being beneficial to overall physical and emotional well being. The principles are control, centering, precision, breathing, concentration, and flowing motion - somewhat similar to the practice of yoga.

Wikopedia noted that:

According to practitioners, the central aim of Pilates is to create a fusion of mind and body, so that without thinking about it the body will move with economy, grace, and balance. The end goal is to produce an attention-free union of mind and body. Practitioners believe in using one's body to the greatest advantage, making the most of its strengths, counteracting its weaknesses, and correcting its imbalances. The method requires that one constantly pay attention to one's body while doing the movements. Paying attention to movement is so vital that it is more important than any other single aspect of the movements.

So, here I am with my damaged lungs, struggling to get up a flight of stairs. I tried weight training and the sudden and extreme exertion of the movements led very quickly to overwhelming fatigue. The treadmill I can do, but I felt I needed something else. I am so fat and awkward with this unexpected and useless weight which I know I cannot lose unless I go off of the steroids. And right that is not very likely! So I looked around to see if there were any other physical activities that could make me feel more balanced, flexible, tall, thin & blond.

I decided to settle for flexible and balanced so I signed up to take Pilates at my gym. And I am ever so grateful that I have a well-developed sense of the humor about most aspects of my daily life! Else I would have fled in tears - no, hysterics - needing at least a month of intensive in-patient treatment at a very good mental health facility to recover from my Pilates experience.

I could not even assume the Pilates Stance; a way of standing that puts your feet at an awkward angle to the rest of the body and assumes you can stay in an upright position while holding this stance. I less than gracefully wobbled and then fell.

Next we had to lay on our backs - me trying to see over the mountain of my belly - and slowly sit up using our core muscles (mine are just buried too deep to be found) and then, bend our body slowly into a "C" shape. This is where I lost it - I was laughing so hard I fell off the platform. I can no more do a sit up than I can be tall, thin, and blond these days. I was able to raise my shoulders; that was it. I tried again and rocked my body to get a bit of a momentum; no go. So I just used my arms and pushed myself up, laughing all the while.

But it did not end here. I had to make a "C" shape with my body. I started to bend from my seated position and very quickly realized that this only did one thing to my body - it cut off my breathing - the very thing I was hoping to enhance! Whatever it was I looked like, sitting there with a small bend to my upper body as my belly fat put an end to any more bending, it was not a "C!" That is when I lost it laughing and fell off the platform.
I am sure god was laughing with me too!

There was a time in my life, most of my life actually, when I would not go out in public wearing gym clothing and being so fat (of course, until this past year, I have never been so fat). I was too self-conscious, self-centered, and I knew that EVERYONE was looking at me in shock and awe that I was so fat and could still walk AND go out in public! There was a time when I would not even wear gym-type clothing, shorts, bathing suits, running bras, nor take any group exercise class. No swimming pools, no hot pants, just layers of baggy loose cotton. And mind you, most of my life, I was a petite size 4! I weighed 90 pounds when I was married at age 20 (I am 5'2") and I got down to the low 80s in my late 30's and still felt fat.

And now I am my own worst nightmare! And I find it hilarious. Funny. A source of humorous stories. I don't like that I am fat and that in itself is very unhealthy - and that I am fat because I have to take steroids for a chronic lung disease which has reduced my lung capacity by 40 percent. That is not funny. But I might as well put the other 60% to good use and laugh it all away!