her able hands

I need to take better care of myself. I’m in what I think of as my body’s Peak Oil Crisis.

I’m developing repeating symptoms of poor digestion and weird sleep patterns, have a lumpy gland nestled in the groove of my collarbone on my shoulder ( I have an appointment to look at it), aches and pains in my limbs that persist day and night. This aging thing is getting harder than I ever imagined it would be, even though “they” warned me (and you) that you have to start young, establish a self-care routine with healthy eating and daily exercise. I kept putting it off, or diving in and burning out. Raising a family sidetracked me. Jobs derailed me.

Here is a list of some things I now know to be true, and this isn’t just for now, but for the long term if I want to feel better in my body:

I cannot eat refined sugar.
I should not drink alcohol. Notice the should not as opposed to the cannot above…I would still like to be able to have a glass of wine at dinner with friends.
Over-processed flours make me quite sick.
Go easy on the garlic and spicy foods.
Lay off the potatoes (sweet potatoes are okay in moderation).
Bread. No. No. No. (sob)
Cereal too.
Easy on the cheesy.
Milk might do some other body good, but ties this stomach in knots.
Raw foods aren’t as easy to digest as they might be for some other people. Must have them with an acidic dressing.
This body will not exercise itself.
Starting and finding momentum is the hardest thing.
There’s always something else I can do and always will be. It’s time to choose the exercise.
Thinking is not the same thing as meditating. Not even close.
This body is now aging exponentially.

By this time in April in past years I’ve been outside digging every day. Turning compost piles, trenching rows for potatoes, pushing wheelbarrow loads full of manure around the garden. That’s my favorite form of exercise. I’m hoping that this ridiculous spring hiding inside winter’s cold cloak is finally going to warm up and stay that way. The winds last night were so strong that while I soaked in the tub (with ylang ylang and geranium oils) it sounded like the train that runs through town about 5 blocks west was driving right across the kitchen roof (which is outside the upstairs bathroom wall). We have four large scrub cherry trees in the back yard and as I dozed in the warm water I suddenly pictured one of them toppling onto the house and a branch impaling me. Needless to say, I drained the tub and scurried off to bed.

So perhaps the winds pushed winter back where he belongs. Today we’re supposed to get up to 47* and by Saturday 60*. On Sunday I peeked at the garden bed that I planted two weeks before and the radish have sprouted. My raspberry plants also arrived. I need a good five days of warm before I can put them in the ground.

Geeze, look at that. I changed the topic completely. Smoke and mirrors. Well, that diversion only lasts for a few minutes these days because the harsh realty is that I just do not bounce back the way I used to and I do not want to grow old feeling trapped in a body of pain and discomfort. I can see very clearly that every day that I let slip by without taking action is a week of hard work in the future. It’s time. Hell, it was time ten years ago.

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