Currently I’m just overwhelmed enough–by allergies, finances, and an upcoming weekend full of travel and, therefore, potentially stressful food decisions. That’s right, it’s only my first week on Autoimmune Paleo, and I’m already planning to go out-of-town–to Tulsa to perform in an improv comedy show and to Little Rock to see a play (for inspiration). Surely I can get a salad almost anywhere, but it’s so much easier to just eat “what the hell ever” when I’m crisscrossing the south. That being said, I’m already seeing the benefits of this diet, so I’m sticking to it. Not only have I lost eight of the ten pounds I gained while travel writing, but I think my skin is less irritated also. (It’s hard to tell).

But seriously, eight pounds. That’s the difference between my boobs bouncing up and down–or not–when I swing dance.

This evening I watched a YouTube video by an Autoimmune Paleo lady who said that it’s easy to get frustrated with your body when it doesn’t do what you want it to. Her suggestion was to get frustrated with your disease or problem, sure, but love your body. At first I thought this was a great idea, but the more I think about it, the more I think it sounds like hate the sin, love the sinner. (I’ve yet to figure out a good way to do this.) I mean, if my body has an problem, isn’t that problem PART OF my body–at least until it’s not? If I’m hating my immune system problem, am I not still hating my body? Wouldn’t it be better to love all of it? Not that I don’t get frustrated–I do–but I’m working on accepting myself just as I am and being grateful for my challenges because of what they reveal in me (more patience, kindness, and self-care).

One thing I did appreciate about the video is that the lady suggested being grateful for the parts of your body that DO work, recognizing the places where your body is knocking it out of the park DESPITE whatever handicap it’s facing. This is a great reminder for me. I’ve felt tired and allergy-y today, but I’ve still had more energy than I did on an average day two months ago. This afternoon I was able to go through a stack of mail, and this evening I went through “a stack” of email, in addition to cooking a meal and running a couple errands. It may sound like just a normal day, but I’m trying not to take normal days for granted. Also, I’m trying not to be overly irritated that I’m currently wiped out after “just a normal day.” I keep telling myself, My body is doing the best it can.

We’re all doing the best we can.

Today my writer friend Gwen made me cry–in a good way. She’d apparently read one of my blogs from a few months ago and commented, “I love how you are healing yourself by writing the story you want to live.” This statement took me totally by surprise in the best way possible, I guess because–uh–it’s true. (God, I hope it’s true.) And maybe Gwen’s words touch me so much because I didn’t fully realize that that’s what I was doing until she said it. Like, I didn’t set out to heal myself or write the story I wanted to live thirteen months ago when this blog started. I did, however, set out to be honest, so maybe the truth really does set you free. Maybe it sets you free in more ways than you can imagine or dream possible.