On Ways to Change Old Patterns (Blog #877)

This morning I went to bed at three and woke back up at six in order to help my dad celebrate his birthday (it’s today). One of his favorite things in the world is chocolate-filled donuts from Irish Maid Donuts in Fort Smith, and the last time we went–on Father’s Day at ten o’clock–they were nearly out. So this time we decided to go earlier. Not only that, Dad called them this morning to make sure they were still open (because several streets in Fort Smith flooded during the night), and when we arrived, they not only had our donuts ready, but they’d also written “Happy Birthday” on top of our box.

Talk about service.

Dad and I ate at the store, and the lady working the counter said they’ve been using the same donut/chocolate filling recipe since the 1950s. Y’all, it’s delicious. Totally worth getting up for. That being said, I went straight back to bed when Dad and I were finished and slept til almost twelve.

This afternoon I watched several videos online, mostly “smartypants” stuff, as my therapist calls it. You know, self-help, personal growth material. And whereas I enjoyed most of it, there was one video by one lady that absolutely got on my nerves. I kept thinking, This is dumb. I’ve got better things to do. Still, my inner completionist kept thinking I should stick with it. My inner good student thought, What if there’s important information that we NEED? Finally I thought of something my therapist says occasionally–follow the energy. That is, if something doesn’t excite you, it’s probably not for you. So I switched off the video while the lady was mid-sentence and moved on with my life.

It felt great.

Lately I’ve been talking a lot about changing patterns, and one of the videos I did completely watch today said that you can engage new patterns in a couple of ways. First, and I know this seems obvious, but you can “just do it.” What I mean is that I have an old pattern of completing things I start even if I don’t enjoy them, but a desire for a new pattern of being willing to walk away from that which doesn’t serve me (don’t throw good money after bad). So the simplest way for me to get comfortable walking away is to actually practice walking away–from a book, from a video, from a person. People always tell me they have two left feet. Duh. Of course they do–and they always will unless they’re willing to at least TRY to dance.

Which brings me to the second way you can change patterns. Get a role model, a teacher, or a therapist. The donut shop has been using the same recipes for over fifty years not because one baker has come in and done their own thing, but rather because one baker has learned from another who has already done it. This is why you take dance lessons from someone who already knows how to dance. This is why I see a therapist–because she already knows how to have boundaries, how to advocate for herself, how to speak her truth, and so on, and these are things I’ve wanted to learn. In order to do so, I’ve needed–and I think we all need–an example, a guide, someone who says, “Look here. See what’s possible. See how you can grow. See what you can become.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

"Kindness is never a small thing."

One Stitch at a Time (Blog #672)

Today I’m generally content. This is a phrase my therapist uses a lot, generally content, that feeling somewhere in between being on top of the world and having the world on your shoulders. For me, it’s not feeling fabulous, but not feeling unfabulous either. It’s loving the results of your new diet, but not loving the fact that you just ate chicken and rice for the third time in two days. Generally content–it’s that feeling you get when you finally embrace your age and the fact that you enjoy a good prune.

So sue me.

This afternoon and evening I’ve done a little of this, a little of that. That is, I read in a book, watched an old television show on my laptop, did my knee rehab exercises, and knitted. Yesterday my friend Bonnie gave me my first official pattern or project–a pot holder that has the word HI stitched in the middle of it. When it’s finished it will be a square–36 rows with 36 stitches each. (That’s 1,296 stitches.) Tonight I spent about an hour doing the first six rows. (That’s 216 stitches.) Right at the end some stitches slipped off one of the needles, but after a lot of concentrated thinking, I figured out how to fix them. Phew.

I plan to go to the gym whenever I get done blogging. I went last night and tried a few new exercises, some for my knee, some for the rest of me. Y’all, at one point, while I was standing on one leg and passing a weighted ball from one hand to the other, I actually found myself having fun. What the hell–having fun at a gym?! Now, despite that fact that I’m often intimidated at the gym and am afraid of not knowing what I’m doing, I’m thinking about adding in some other exercises tonight. Because the truth is, I don’t really know what I’m doing. Granted, I’m no stranger to the gym, this isn’t my first workout rodeo, but I mean in general I’m not a pro. I’m not a pro at knitting, not a pro at working out. Fortunately, it turns out you don’t have to be a pro to either get good results or enjoy yourself.

This also applies to dancing, cooking, and love-making (I’ve heard, Mom).

I’ve blogged about it before, but it’s really been on my mind today that a little bit at a time goes a long way. I’m reading this book about resetting your body’s nervous system (in order to eliminate tension and pain), and it emphasizes that all the exercises should be done SLOWLY. It says, even if you just feel a SLIGHT feeling of relaxation, that’s significant. And whereas my inner completionist just wants the results, I know this is how results manifest–a little bit here, a little bit there. As in knitting, progress comes one stitch at a time.

Earlier I realized that it’s basically been two months since my knee injury. The accident happened December 1, and today is the last day of January. Just over sixty days, and so many of those days I’ve wanted to cry or pull my hair out it’s been so frustrating. But shit, look how far I’ve come. I’ve had surgery. Now I can walk without crutches. I can’t dance yet, but I’m making other noticeable improvements week by week. If things go according to plan, in one more month I’ll be jogging. A month after that, it’ll be spring; it’ll be warm out. Yes, this is doable. I’m gonna dance again, me and my constantly cold feet are gonna make it through winter, and I’m gonna get that potholder done.

One stitch at a time.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Life proceeds at its own pace.

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