Author Archives: elizatwist

Gradations of Integrity

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I’ve noticed a little something happening in the wake of the many changes in consciousness that we are currently having with respect to food.  And I thought that perhaps the mighty keyboard might have some influence on the subject.  I’ll be honest, I’ve been having a case of the blues the past couple days which may be tainting my thoughts on the topic.  Which is both why I turned to writing and why I feel obliged to make a full disclosure.

First a little background.  Here in the bay area, we enjoy a delicious bounty of food year round.  Given my frequent visits to the farmers’ market and our membership in Full Belly’s CSA program, I have a pretty good sense of what is available throughout the seasons a local level.  I am a fairly conscientious eater, I have been choosing organic for years, local now almost entirely, and my methods of food preparation are becoming more deliberate thanks to having read this book, and this one.  And here I live in the heart of the slow food movement, where folks who once worked at Alice Water’s pioneering eatery open up shop quite often.  As with food stuff, we enjoy a bounty of dining options.

Here’s the rub:  not all these establishments are holding themselves to the same high standards that words like local, organic, in season, sustainably raised, etc evoke.  And I find that a little frustrating (especially when my mood isn’t super light, sure.  But the point stands).  Case in point:  yesterday we sat down at Mintleaf  in Berkeley’s “gourmet ghetto”.  I was at first comforted by the chalkboard above their kitchen area that has most of the words I listed above artfully displayed.  On quite another tangent, my husband thought to inquire about the origin of their rice because he recently read about this worrisome fact.

After inquiring, the waitress came back to report that the restaurant uses rice imported from India.  So much for local.  Our inquiry stopped there, because when dining with a toddler, there is precious little time for deliberation.  We mostly eat in, so the occasional exposure to foods of questionable quality – but definite convenience – remains one of those “grey areas” in my choices as a parent (yes yes yes to all super nutritious high quality foods, no no no to the unending rigor of in-house-food-preparation-for-3-meals-a-day-7-days-a-week).  But given these two facts, California produces A LOT of rice, and we in the bay area even have an organically and locally grown option, I felt compelled to raise the question for restauranteurs:  why not go local when it comes to rice?  Now, I realize that there are most certainly other factors that go into choosing rice, all sorts of varieties and costs and that sort of thing.  I reckon that this may be a variation on the substance versus form debate:  taste and preparation qualities versus origin qualities.  For me origin qualities trump all else, but that’s just me.

When I go to a place that touts al the qualities that I love about the local food movement and I end up eating rice from India and summer squash and bell peppers in April, I get a sort of uncomfortable feeling.  It is at these points that I realize I am assuming something very different from the proprietors about the quality of the food they are offering me.  And that I really have no idea what I’m actually eating.  That’s a hard pill to swallow for a control freak foodie who is in a crabby mood.  But the good news is, that the food tastes good, and savoring the overall experience (live guitar music, friendly staff, tasty food, happy hubs and kid) is enough to eclipse my reservations.  Unless of course I go ahead and write a blog post about the whole thing.  As an aside, we ate out twice on the same day (it was our wedding anniversary and we were feeling the inclination to step out), and the first place that fed us purports the same high quality of food and yet serves heinz ketchup.  Ick!  It would seem that considering gradations of integrity was a theme for our day out.

Long story short, having high standards can be complicated.  Worth it?  I don’t think that I could do it any other way.  But I must keep the whole picture in focus so as not to drive myself and those around me batty.  So that’s me.  But I don’t see why restaurants couldn’t do with a nudge in the direction of upping their standards.  After all, this is the bay area.  People come from all over with the expectation of enjoying some truly fabulous food!  Why not give it ’em?

Blogosphere Meets Real Life

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It’s been a while since I peeked in the Smitten Kitchen and was immediately inspired to get cooking. Mostly because I’ve been following a new sort of diet (I know, I know, I still haven’t posted an update. Coming sometime in the future…I promise. There’s been a lot of work on the home front in the past couple months). But today, I was in just the right sort of mood to follow a whim and whip up a cake during my babe’s nap. And I did. I substituted palm sugar for the sugar and coconut milk for the milk and coconut for the almonds. And since this isn’t a food blog, I’ll stop there. I ended up with a lovely cake cooling in the pan. And a real sense of satisfaction paired with eager anticipation.

Thursdays are our TSH pick up day. And somehow with the nap time which keeps getting later and all the fun that my son has pulling all the jars to be returned out of the bag – while I’m putting them in the bag – and making sure that each milk jar has a lid and all sorts of other exercises in order, we are more often than not departing within a very short time of their closing.

Today, I thought that it would be best if before we left I also turned the cake out of the pan, that way it would be ready for the final slicing and pastry creaming steps upon our return. Since I didn’t really follow the recipe and my topping was much looser (still quite tasty) and buttery in a slippery sort of way. My flip quickly became a flop onto the counter. And the cake just sort of collapsed all over the place. Oh no! That is precisely what I said. Repeatedly. So many times, that my son joined in. So there we stood saying oh no over and over again while I got out a spatula and began scraping the cake off the many surfaces that the flop enveloped (sadly, our counters are rarely clear of stuff).

When the cake just sort of turns itself wrong-side out in front of you, there really is nothing better to do than to tuck in. And so we did. I got out the pastry crème filling and dropped a few dollops overtop the mess of cake that I’d scooped into a bowl and we got to eating. Logically. It was very tasty. My son repeatedly asked for more. I mostly gave him cake only (with not even a twinge of guilt since I used palm sugar – and hardly any for that matter). There was just a hint of sweetness in that warm moist cake, an afternoon delight. And quite a pleasant result for what had very recently been a big OH NO.

But. Remember that we had been heading out the door? There was still a sliver of a chance that we’d make it to TSH by closing. But then we landed in a sea of traffic. Unusual traffic. My son started saying oh no again. I had to laugh. Lucky for us the folks at TSH are easy going and so when we showed up at 4:10 they let us in and we got our big ol’ bag of food.

After our food pickup I’d been planning on visiting the Lawrence Hall of Science for a quick first time experience since they close at 5p. Foiled again. This time there was a demand for milk and a very strong desire to play in the car. After 20 minutes of car fun in the hot sun – which also included my mistakenly setting off the car alarm two times – we headed home.

And after all that it seemed to me that it was time for another serving of cake. My son agreed. Thanks as always for sharing Deb! From your picture perfect to our make do, it was a fun ride.

Accentuate the Positive

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As I’ve already noted, trials of motherhood are within the normal range of experience. And yet, the unpleasantness still stings. I have been in my own little cocoon lately, fortifying myself after a couple years of serious emotional strain.

I am in the midst of reconstituting myself and it is a slow and steady sort of process. There are so many things within to tend to; memories, present challenges, work choices, familial relations. And of course, it all connects and reflects: me. Me has been in serious trouble. It’s funny how that happens. How in the midst of so much good there can be a true crisis of self. How it can go undetected by most everyone. And even if it is detected, no one can really do anything about it. It can be contained for a period. But then at a certain point, something has to give. Or in my particular case, receive. These days, I am constantly shifting my focus toward all that is rather than all that is not. This usually comes quite naturally to me, but I traveled down a deep dark hole a while back and so very much like the little sprouts in my garden, I’m reaching upward toward the light.

So I’m focusing on the positive these days, as best I can. To clean out all the negativity does take a while. The habit of negative thinking takes time to shake off completely. And while I do put a tremendous amount of faith in positive thinking and the far reaching implications, I see all around me the results of my recent period of negativity. Which adds some challenge to the whole endeavor; it is so easy to see all that and retreat back down into the hole.

I set up this space in the midst of my challenges. I set it up with the express purpose of consistently figuring my way back to positivity. I have enjoyed many spans of relief thanks to my efforts. When I read this post I recognize a lot of my own frustrations and as is often the case, I’m compelled to add something to the virtual mix. In this quagmire of negativity which I so often find myself these days, it is easy to fall into the futile exercise of making comparisons. When I do this, I remind myself that there is no reality whatsoever in comparison when it comes to us humans and our lives. Our minds create comparison and honestly it seems to me to be a complete waste of effort. (Like so much of what our minds do when we are stuck out of alignment with ourselves. It seems that the mind so easily plays the role of rooting us deeper into negativity which is a self perpetuating exercise, hence my current ascent out of a very deep hole.)

Which brings me to my point about accentuating the positive. Blogs are good for that. There is a particular time and space around a cyber space which makes it ideal for coming around to what is good. And leaving it at that. And that is great for each and every one of us. And yet, there is the flip side: when we are in a hole, it’s so easy to look on at others’ positivity accentuating spaces, and fall into the trap of comparison which just buries us deeper down into our own holes.

But then, all of life is really like that isn’t it? There is always the choice to be made between being sad and happy (or some gradation of either). Put whatever spin on it you want, choose whatever words you like best. The very words we use can be liberating or condemning by the same token of the point that I’m making. This is the very basic fact of our material existence. To be one-sided is to be incomplete. We are whole only when we are in line, body and soul. And when we are in line, we see at once the duality and the completeness. We see that none of it really matters, and yet every little detail does. But we see it all from a field of love.

Accentuating the positive is simply a mental trick along the way to the field of love which at once surrounds us and is kept from us by our very selves. This trick is by the design of our very make up. We are reflected in our feelings and guided by our minds. For whatever our soul calls us to do, we are still here in these bodies, making the best of it in our limited ways.

Here are the three books that have been helping me with my current project of self care:

Transforming the Nature of Health by Marcey Shapiro

The Astonishing Power of Emotions by Abraham-Hicks

Spiritual Economics by Eric Butterworth

 

And here’s the quote that hangs over my desk to remind me often of what I know in my heart of hearts to be true:

If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself but your own estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment. –Marcus Aurelius

 

And there’s one more thing.  I live in a place revered for the good weather.  And boy has the sunshine been a blessing in the past few months.  There have been so many days when I was so down and yet, I could be bathed in sunshine.  I was grateful every time.  Regardless of circumstance, there is always something good to focus on, in my case it’s been the weather.  So here’s to opening our eyes to the goodness that surrounds us in every possible way at every given moment.

Embracing Play

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In a rare moment of relaxation for our little hard-working family, we made an uplifting discovery. This past weekend we headed to the Berkeley Marina to take in some beauty. While we were there we saw all kinds of neat Berkeley activities going on, but perhaps the coolest thing we saw was the Adventure Playground. My husband and I both love to make things of all kinds and are looking forward to all sorts of fun activities of that sort once our boy is ready. (He seems to be of our ilk, one of his current favorite activities while I’m sitting and writing is to use an allen wrench to unscrew the chair that I’m sitting on. My husband has helped significantly with encouragement, which I find a bit perplexing. He assures me that undoing one screw won’t make the chair collapse under my weight – oh good.) To know that a place like Adventure Playground is just a quick drive away from our place is heartening. Although, as we watched with great pleasure and utter amazement, my husband and I both had the same thought: we wouldn’t want to share with so many other kids. But we are both only children and neither of us grew up in such a highly populated area as this east bay of ours.

Anyway….here’s to embracing play! And here’s my expression of gratitude for Berkeley, and cool public spaces like the Adventure Playground. And to the people who came before us and did the work of bring the Adventure Playground into reality. And to those who keep it going. There is so much good being done in this little world of ours!

Down with DST

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It’s that time again.  While everybody else is in a fog, I get all hot under the collar.  While I realize that this little campaign of mine is still quite small, I have already had one insight:  spring forward is certainly the time of year that more people are willing to lend a sympathetic ear to my plea for the recovery of our collective sanity with regard to DST.

That’s obvious right?  Because everybody whose clock just sprung forward this morning is tired and out of sorts.  This is the moment when people might be willing to get on board with the notion that this might not be the best idea after all.  Fall back on the other hand?  Everybody all rested and happy with an “extra” hour of sleep?  Not so much.

I am afraid that right this moment I’m feeling cynical.  I’m feeling like so many of us are already too far gone to care.  Given the high amounts of drug use (I’m referring to pharmaceuticals mostly) in the United States, many of us are too tuned out to notice.

I don’t do drugs, I don’t even drink coffee.  I notice.  Every time.  Daylight Savings Time is a bad idea.  Anybody who thinks that it is a good idea is looking at just a little sliver of it.  (How nice it is to fall back, or to have more sunlight for a few months at the end of a day’s work).  Overall, DST doesn’t make good on its promises.  Depending on where you live, some days have more sunlight than others.  Period.  We don’t need to tinker with a construct that we invented in the first place to see if we can squeeze a little bit more out of that sunlight.

It’s time to wake up and smell the coffee, people.  Down with DST.  For good!

 

Gathering ‘Round the Hearth

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Adele and I had a lovely outing on Sunday. We attended a tour of the kitchen at Three Stone Hearth and got to learn all about a favorite local business of mine.

First a few quick facts about Three Stone Hearth (TSH):

  • It is the first ever Community Supported Kitchen (CSK) which offers tasty and nourishing food that is prepared with traditional practices.
  • TSH offers educational opportunities ranging from building basic knowledge to sharing what the workers have learned thus far about setting up a CSK.
  • TSH employs well-designed and implemented business systems that make it easy to be a customer.
  • TSH’s customer base has grown by word of mouth alone, a true testament to the quality of the service and goods that it provides.
  • Above all, TSH is driven by passion and sustained by community.

The Three Stone Hearth Vision Statement

“We heal our community, our planet, and ourselves by building a sustainable model for community-scale food preparation and processing that honors culinary traditions and provides nutrient-dense foods for local households and beyond”

 

Adele at TSH

 

I could approach the project of sharing a bit about our excursion from so many different angles which is probably what I love most about TSH. It is such a holistically established business that no matter what way you begin to think and talk about it you soon arrive at the hearth, the very center where it all blends together. A business which truly serves all the people involved with it is such a beautiful thing to behold, it is inspiring on many levels. I read Full Moon Feast from cover to cover in preparation to meet with Jessica Prentice, and also gave a fair first pass to Sally Fallon’s tome, Nourishing Traditions in anticipation of our meeting. So, I’m currently quite inspired about what I’m eating. But I think that I’ll save that information for another post which will serve as a diet update.

So I won’t talk much about the food, except to say that TSH is providing many folks with very nutritious fare. Food that we would not be able to find anywhere else, save for preparing it ourselves. That, in and of itself, is a wonderful blessing for us all. In her presentation, Prentice made the point that at this stage in the life of TSH, the food is sort of a happy by-product of all the other work that goes on in their kitchen. I’d say that perhaps the food is the alpha and omega of TSH. While the food is truly the beginning in terms of conception, and the end on a weekly basis, it is all the other stuff that engages the workers of TSH on a heart level. Given the amazing knowledge and talent of all the co-owners, excellent food is a given, and the consistent rule. Given the intention behind their work and how they perform it, all sorts of other wonderful lessons are learned along the way. Personally, I have always felt blessed to do work that I truly love, that inspires me and teaches me every day that I do it. It would seem that the leaders of TSH are blessed to have a similar sort of experience. That’s probably part of why the food tastes so good. It all goes into the stew.

On our tour I learned that the logo for TSH is a Mayan hieroglyph for three stones set around a central fire, an arrangement used by countless tribes and cultures throughout history – It is the most universal hearth design on the planet. I should have known that there was something special and symbolic about the TSH name and symbol. Now that I do, the fullness of the work being done there is that much clearer to me and in turn I appreciate it so much more.

Ultimately, relationships drive the business of TSH. I’d venture to say that is always the case with small businesses, which is part of why I am such a fan. Small businesses are extensions of the people who work in them, which gives those folks all sorts of opportunities for personal growth. It is a beautiful thing. At TSH the helmspeople are really clued into that, which I appreciate. It is far easier to keep company with those who cultivate self-awareness both as a private and communal practice.

I would be remiss if I were to omit my experience reading Prentice’s amazing book. It is such a wonderful exploration of the personal within the context of the whole. Prentice shares with us a process which is characterized by equal parts mind, body and spirit. Not that the three are really separate, but I could not think of how else to make the point: the book is thorough, and inspirational, and practical. In a holistic venture, Prentice travels deep to the heart of what truly nourishes us. I loved the various sources that Prentice drew from; I loved that so many seemingly various topics were woven into an exploration of what we eat and how we feed ourselves; Mostly, I love that following my heart led me to read a book written by somebody who knows, above all else, that she must follow her heart. That seems like a good thing to remind myself in moments of despair: that somehow, someway, we each get to where we are meant to go, and along the way we meet some lovely people and learn what is good for us to know.

Prentice is also the person (among others, of course) behind this nifty wheel. I believe that it was after I read this book, that I had the idea to paint a very large circle with all the produce that we consume arranged around by order of the seasons. I figured that this would be ideal art for our kitchen wall – It would be beautiful and informative and would keep us on track toward my newfound resolve to eat with the seasons (this was before we joined our CSA program and long before TSH entered our lives). I’m pretty sure that I was also planning to include other elements of the natural seasons in there: the celtic holidays, the phases of the moon, those sorts of things. But, the project was far too big for me to tackle given my limited skills with a brush. A short time later, I was in a cute little local shop looking for a birthday gift and I saw the Local Foods Wheel. That pretty much put my idea to bed. It is always such a relief when an idea that I have comes into reality without me having anything to do with it! While it isn’t exactly the work of art that I was envisioning (I’ll bet that somewhere, somebody else is crafting up a stunning circle for kitchen art), it sure is practical and was just the thing for my health conscious friend.

In her talk, Prentice shared a story with us that has a nice way of illustrating what she told us about TSH and what I am now sharing here. (For more on how TSH came to be, take a half hour to watch this video. It’s a goodie.) The story goes that at the very first meeting with the five founders of TSH, Prentice put her cards on the table: she was only willing to go ahead with the idea of a CSK if they packaged the food they made in mason jars. Presumably, the other four were in agreement or acquiesced, because seven years later mason jars are a key component to the systems at TSH. Prentice’s point in telling the story was that what began as a simple expression of values around producing less waste ended up determining so many factors of how TSH does business. Packaging in glass necessitated systems unique to this new business – Systems that had to be invented and refined, which required a lot of work. (Hopefully the sort of toils that brought everybody involved closer together.) It turned out that using jars meant that from day one TSH had a built-in customer retention system. A small hook, sure. And perhaps really just a figurative one – because the food is really what keeps people coming back. Or maybe (probably), there is more to it. From day one customers paid a deposit for each jar used, and when the jars were returned their accounts were credited. While it may seem like a trifle, it turned out not to be. It turned out that using those jars, and keeping tabs on them, made for a lot of work and became the topic of many conversations and investigations into customer’s account tallies. And while those conversations may have been mundane in and of themselves, the relationships that grew out of them endured.

So it would seem that jars, ancient hieroglyphs, and inspirational books were our guides into the world of TSH with this recent visit. I have no doubt that others, exposed to our country’s first CSK for different reasons, arrive at very similar conclusions to my own.

A long time ago I studied T’ai Chi Chuan. (Funnily enough, I recently saw my teacher for the first time in many years at TSH and it turns out that our midwife, who introduced us to TSH in the first place is the daughter of a fellow student of mine in those classes many moons ago – this is part of what I meant when I said that I followed my heart to TSH.) During a week long intensive, we explored the five elements. I have never forgotten what my teacher said about the element of fire: that it binds people together; that when people create fire together, they linger on for hours afterwards, like the embers of a hearth. Our tour was like that – I watched as the others in attendance were reluctant to leave the hearth. They had learned so many wonderfully interesting things about this unique business and they wanted to know more. So it would seem that the hearth is burning strong in Berkeley, nourishing many of us in ways too numerous to say, but too deeply to go unacknowledged or under appreciated.

A Nursing Mama Tip

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A while back one of my clients told me what she did during her nursing days to keep her tummy private. And today, I decided that the time to share has arrived.

You take a long and easy cotton tank top (men’s undershirts work well) and cut out the bosom area. Then you layer your undershirt between your nursing bra and your regular shirt. If you wear exclusively nursing clothing, then this isn’t really necessary, but as the months wear on, I’m pretty sure that I’m not the only person dipping back into my regular old clothes.  And it sure is more comfortable to nurse without being conscious of the fact that my flubbits are on display.

Here are the photos to prove what a good idea this is. Happy altering!

In order to avoid this:P1010583

Get this:

P1010587

P1010588

Now, doesn’t that feel better?

Layer Upon Layer of Flat

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This post has got my mental wheels turning. I scrolled through the comments and found a link to this program. But the honest truth is that the core is my professional speciality. So really, if anybody can figure out how to get the tummy flat (or as flat as it was pre-pregnancy), I can! It follows that if it’s worth doing, it’s worth sharing, because I know all too well, that I am not the only one with this situation.

What follows is a personal narrative, which I hope will help others to find their own personal narrative around their very own tummies. I am not pretending to be a licensed expert, just a very extensively trained Pilates instructor.

I never had a flat tummy. Period. Which means I always (even when I weighed in at 135 pounds and wore sizes 2 and 4 – I’m currently in the mid 150’s and only wear stretchy clothes) had a little bit of extra in the space between my navel and my pubic bone. And my current evening dose of bikini views thanks to our current version of passive meditation,has me noticing of late that even the skinniest gals have that little extra bit there. It’s just that when your skinny, there is only a teensy little bit.

Way back when, when I would do my Pilates workouts, I would often notice that my tummy stuck out as I was exercising (oh no! Say it isn’t so!!!). This meant that I was not in the pocket. This is not good, and perhaps part of the reason that I’m in my current pickle. I asked Romana once, “is my tummy supposed to be flat the entire time?” She said, “yes”. Of course she did. Because in Pilates we are supposed to be using all the layers of muscle in perfect coordination with each other, which means that the most superficial muscles (in this case the rectus abdominis) must not do more than their fair share. The superficial muscles are big show offs and are typically in the habit of doing far more than their assigned parcel of work. In a Pilates workout, we use mental focus to dial them down so that the other muscles can stand up and do their part.

Fast forward to pregnancy and the gradual increase of pressure on my tummy. Up down, forward back, inside out, all around, PRESSURE. I watched that little lump of fat change position. I asked my OB-GYN at one point what it was (so many changes, I found it challenging to keep tabs on everything all the time). She suggested fat. I agreed. Still there. Well of course. (I had some sort of strange hope that while my tummy stretched, the fat would spread out too. Silly me.)

I exercised very carefully throughout my pregnancy, always with the primary goal of keeping my body moving. I wasn’t interested in all that extra fluid settling any one place in particular. Or the little person in there settling any one place either. No, it seemed to me that it was best to keep everything moving, on account of all that pressure, you know.

Having heard stories from my colleagues of their own bouts with severe diastasis recti I had formulated one of my pet theories that people like us, who are admittedly rather obsessed with abdominal exercise might be more prone to having severe cases of this unfortunate tear of the linea alba which connects the two columns of our most superficial abdominal muscle (the one that gives us the “six pack”). Because exercise puts pressure on those muscles, and it is a challenge for each of us to get it just right (in the pocket) it follows that we Pilates instructors may have a higher propensity to experience this condition.

For that reason, and because I heeded the words of JHP, I have always been careful to go easy with my ab series. I’m not a high reps kind of Pilates instructor, and I usually remind myself and my clients that when it comes to burn in the abs, less is more. Because that rectus abdominis burns, but the transversus abdominis and the obliques not as much, at least not in the same way and not at first when the RA is used to being the one doing the lion’s share of the work. The key to the flat tummy are the latter mentioned, deeper layers of the abdominal wall. I knew that it wouldn’t serve me to do lots and lots of reps if my muscles were not lining up properly anyway. In other words, if I did lots and lots of reps with poor form (my tummy protruding as it were), then I’d simply be exacerbating the problem by building up my RA while continuing to leave my other deeper layers of musculature de-conditioned. As I’ve already pointed out, I never had a flat tummy, so it was clearly a reasonable first goal. What with all the other things that happen along the way (childbearing being the current one, but various injuries and other things to tend to) this is turning out to be a rather long term goal.

Having read this book cover to cover, as well as this one, and knowing what I did about my propensity for a split linea alba based on my line of work, I was very careful. But of course my abs stretched apart. That is what happens. So while I don’t believe that I ever had a tear, I had the normal amount of spreading. And here’s the thing. It’s still there. I’m not sure why. I’m thinking that it’s because I’m still nursing (this has been corroborated by my trusted support practitioners) and therefore still have the relaxin in my body.

(There is always that nagging feeling though, that perhaps, my over training of my superficial muscles has led me to this apparent split, because that is what it feels like. When I palpate my tummy I can distinctly feel the firm sections of my RA and they are sort of splayed out. Admittedly, it used to be worse by some measure, back when I had a fair amount of inflammation in my abdomen from the deeper layers of stuff having trouble getting comfortable again. And If I gather all my Pilates training inward and upward, the apparent splay disappears leaving a significantly flatter tummy – along a layer of flub.)

While on the one hand, I can find perfect reason for a lactating mom to have a soft tummy, heaven knows that my boy likes to squish it around. But. I am a Pilates instructor. And frankly, it’s not that much fun to have a belly like a bowl full of jelly. There is, as I’ve already confessed, also a fair amount of extra fat in that area right now. So that doesn’t help matters.

But! Here’s the good news. I’m seeing progress. Here’s what’s been happening. Since very shortly after my birth I have been taking care of the many layers of my abdomen, carefully shepherding each layer back into her place of comfort. Thanks in large part to my reading, and the careful care of my midwife, and others who I have surely mentioned before and will do so again and again and again and again, I have been able to monitor that each and every bit of my viscera, connective tissue, musculature, and skeleton, have gone back into their rightful home. So, my spine, ribs, and pelvic bones are doing well. So are my bladder, uterus, intestines (there are A LOT of those), liver, spleen. My psoas has demanded attention a few times to be sure, so has my diaphragm (those gals are real whip crackers, let me tell you). The fascia enveloping all these various layers of stuff are nice and slippery these days after several painfully assertive demands for attention. And all the ligaments seem to have regained as much of the elasticity that they are going to until weening time. As for the muscles of my abdominal wall, I’ve been tending to them with the same tender loving care that I’ve always applied, and I’m fairly confident that they’ll lay right once weening occurs. (I say fairly, because neurosis begs me to hedge my bets, see above). And as far as the fat goes, well I’ve already shared my plan for that. There are some more updates, which I’ll get to soon enough. But it would seem that we are on the right track.

My point in all this, is to share just how much I have seen go into what I have faith will someday again be my flat (ish) tummy. While it probably goes without saying, and I already sort of did, I’m going to do it again anyway. For emphasis. That the body of the mother needs and therefore deserves a tremendous amount of care and support to bear children and to return to herself afterward. As we each have our own soul journey, so we each have our own body journey. But we share enough commonalities that sharing our stories can be a powerful vehicle for our individual and collective empowerment as women and mothers.

That’s my tummy story. Layer by layer. Someday approaching flat. All this tummy talk reminded me of a tip that a client gave me from her nursing days. I’ll post that one next.

Mirror, Mirror

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It’s good to have friends. It’s good to share our stories with friends. Right now I’m feeling grateful for such things. Today, a friend shared a recent insight that she had about herself and I must say that the more I think about it, the happier I am to have heard what she said.

Her child is older than mine, and has now passed out of infancy and toddlerhood (and that lovely combination of the two which we currently inhabit) into childhood. She is noticing a sense of relief within herself which gave her the idea that perhaps, she’s just one of those people who doesn’t love babies. You know, how some people love babies, some people love 3 year olds, some people love teens, etc.

It seemed relevant to share my MFT’s common interpretation of developmental stages to my present life challenges. I don’t think that I put that very clearly. Often times, in present day, my therapist will call to my attention my son’s developmental stage, and point out to me how that may relate to my life at his particular age, and how that might have an impact on my present emotional experience. The idea, more or less, being that in the act of relating to my son, I’m recalling my early experiences, many of which were somewhat traumatic for me. This framework of analysis makes a lot of sense to me. And it seemed to resonate with my friend as well.

It certainly goes a long way toward explaining why I’ve had an incredibly difficult year and why others experience similar challenges throughout the certain years of parenting their kids.

I am grateful for the ways that we mirror each other. Mostly, right now, I’m grateful for the reflections that are easy to see. But I guess, the truth is that I’m grateful for all of it. Even the really ugly reflections that we’d prefer not to see, because those are after all, the really important ones. And when we look them square in the eye, there is just another person looking back at us.

Here’s to looking at ourselves more clearly through the lens of our closest relationships!