Jenn's Zen

“…creative work causes us to secrete dopamine, a hormone that can make us feel absorbed and fulfilled without feeling manic. This is in sharp contrast to the fight-or-flight mechanism, which is associated with hysteria hormones like adrenaline and cortisol. Research indicates that we’re most creative when we’re happy and relaxed, and conversely, that we can steer our brains into this state by undertaking a creative task.

To get a dopamine “hit,” make something that pushes you to the furthest edge of your ability, where you’re not only focused but learning and perfecting skills…At first, depending on how addicted to mania you happen to be, the excitement-grubbing part of your brain won’t want to stop obsessing about over-the-top experiences. It will cling to its fantasies about the next huge thrill…keep creating.

As you persist, your brain will eventually yield to the state psychologists call mindfulness. Your emotions will calm, even if you’re physically and mentally active. You won’t notice happiness when it first appears, because in true presence, the mind’s frantic searching stops. In its place arises a fascination with what’s occurring here and now. Though this feeling is subtle, it’s the opposite of dull. It’s infinitely varied and exquisite.

The aftermath of a creative surge, especially one that involves a new skill, is a sense of accomplishment and increased self-efficacy-which psychologists recognize as an important counter to depression…you’re left with the happy fatigue of someone who is building strength.

Pay attention to this process, and you’ll see that the motivation to be here and now will gradually grow stronger than the cultural pressure to seek excitement. You’ll find yourself increasingly able to tune in to the delights of the present even when you’re not actively creating. When this happens, you’ll be on your way to genuine happiness: abundant, sustainable delight in the beautiful moments of ordinary life.”

Go be creative!!!

From O magazine, February 2012, Martha Beck

Over this past weekend I watched the documentary Forks Over Knives.  One of the resounding questions that has stuck with me is which is more extreme, eating a plant based diet or having your body cracked in half for open heart surgery?

When we hear of someone changing their habits or lifestyle so dramatically we say or think, “wow, that seems extreme”. Yet, when someone has open heart surgery we don’t see it with quite the same extremeness. We seem to have been lulled to the fact that open heart surgery is almost normal, we all know someone (friend, family member) who has undergone this ordeal and it seems to happen with relative frequency. How many people do you know on a plant based diet?

Another fact that got my attention is that open heart surgery (bypass or otherwise) is merely a treatment of symptoms caused by heart disease. It is essentially a (rather large, painful and high risk) band-aid.  Surgery does not cure the heart disease. The patient is still sick.  Surgery has then prolonged the life of this sick person.  Why do we view radical eating habits as more extreme? Wouldn’t it make more sense to adopt a lifestyle that is healthy and sustainable (on many levels)?

The film definitely got my attention, definitely got me thinking. I’m not eating a plant based diet just yet. However, I can say that if I’m going to be extreme, I would much rather have it be in the way of health vs. disease.

The children have been in a stable environment living with their paternal great-aunt. They have been living with her for over a year and it was thought by all that the situation would continue indefinitely as needed. We see the kids when we visit, talk on the phone, they text w/ E, but our involvement in their care has been on the back burner as they have been in predictable, reliable circumstances. Our names are still on reports in the CPS files, the kids know we are here, but it didn’t seem as immanent that we would be raising the children.

That all changed two days ago when the conditions took a turn for the worse. The children were met at school by social workers and taken separately to new foster homes. The girls are at one home and the boy at another. This is the first time in three years that they’ve been separated. Neither are homes they’ve been to before. It is not likely that they will return to their aunt’s home (that of course could change as much as anything thing else). We are not sure if they are being allowed to attend the same school they started in just a month ago. (Side note: I had no idea this was even an issue within the foster system. Not only are children moved from home to home more frequently than any would like, but when they are moved they must go to new schools if they have moved to a different district (neighborhood). Are you kidding me?! Let’s make it absolutely impossible for these kids to get a foundation under them and have a positive predictable school experience.)

Currently their father is not wanting to continue receiving services, which is a sterile way of saying that he doesn’t want to drug test, go to classes or stay out of jail, in an effort to regain custody of his children. There is a court date in early November scheduled to severe his parental rights. Their mother is still in prison and due for release after the first of the year. She has been told that it would be at least a year before the children would be placed with her as social services wants to be sure she can handle the stressors of day to day life in addition to caring for her children. The children do not know this. The children are waiting.

Taking all of the above into consideration the social worker indicated to us last night that they are running out of options and asked would we still be willing to care for the children. YES! of course. And so, we are back in the loop. There will be paperwork to fill out, home visits to plan, court dates to follow. When we pressed the social worker for a time-line in our favor she hesitantly replied, “by the end of the year”. So, we don’t have four kids today. We aren’t buying beds, clothes or sending away for immunization records to register for school. But it is a possibility again. This time it feels like we are more of an option, then again it could just be our hearts pulling for these kids. Our kids.

patient, kind, hopeful (I Corinthians 13). Those are the easy answers. Most people won’t disagree with those. They make frequent appearances in weddings and find their way onto our walls, bookmarks, Hallmark cards in various forms of verse.

What about the (much debated) “language” of love? And what to do when feelings of love and actions of humans don’t match? Loving someone can be easy, yes? Getting along through life with them can be tough. Is love ever wrong? Unhealthy? sure. but wrong? I don’t know. (more…)

At the risk of freaking out my family and friends I’d like to share and excerpt from Eat, Pray, Love that has made me “go hm….”. As an adult woman I should be able to express my thoughts and not worry so much about ramifications. I guess I’m not quite there yet, but I do want to share this.

“I have many friends in New York who are not religious people. Most, I would say, either they fell away from the spiritual teachings of their youth or they never grew up with any God to begin with. Naturally, some of them are a bit freaked out by my newfound efforts to reach holiness. Jokes are made, of course. As my friend Bobby quipped once while he was trying to fix my computer: “No offense to your aura, but you still don’t know (swear) about downloading software.” I roll with the jokes. I think it’s all funny too. Of course it is. (more…)

Today I was at the gym, in the locker room doing my hair and make-up in front of the huge bank of mirrored sinks. Further down the counter from me were three bikini clad teen-aged girls. Their hair was up, suits on, towels ready and they were heading obviously out to the pool. While waiting for their friends they stood at the mirror and critiqued themselves. They pulled at their suits, they grimaced, they turned around seeing what others would see from behind. They thought they were fat. I wanted to scream, “You are young, vibrant, healthy young women. Love your body, you are beautiful!!!!”

It is a difficult thing to love your body.  I know of only a few who truly do.  This year I have worn a two-piece bathing suit (that bares my belly) for the first time since… EVER!  I’m 37, how did this happen?!  I look back at pictures and sigh because I thought I was fat THEN.

I’m blessed that my body works, my feet can dance, my arms can carry groceries, my hands can write. Yet, I often fail to appreciate those things.  When I was pregnant, and acutely aware of the power of my body, one of my mantras was, “my body was made to do this”.  Now I use the same mantra in spin class.  I was hit by a car when I was six years old. I spent three months recuperating, but I did. I healed to be a happy healthy kid whose body functions as intended.

We are so hard on ourselves, why? Wouldn’t we be happier if we accepted our bodies for their limitations, but worked within them to make them the strongest and healthiest possible? I think so.

You are young, vibrant, healthy. Love your body, you are beautiful!!!

This could also be titled, “My Heart Grew Four Sizes That Day”. 

The little girl and I recently returned from a trip out west. Due to a savvy case worker and a six hour road trip we were able to reconnect with the children over lunch and a playdate at the park. Let me say this, there are alot of things wrong with CPS and the foster care system, but any social worker willing to drive six hours (each way) with three small children in one day so that we could all see each other gets some kudos in my book. We drove from WA, they drove from CA and we met in OR. As soon as the kiddos saw each other they were instantly “best cousins” all over again. At lunch they were making potty jokes, giggling and telling stories. The youngest babe sat on my lap and ate fries. It was delightful. After we filled our bellies we headed to the park.

We lucked out and it was a fabulous sunny day. We had packed snacks, sand toys, sidewalk chalk, and bubbles. They ran, swung on the swings, spun around, shot basketballs, blew bubbles, slid down the slide(s), traced each other in chalk, hopped hopscotch, and smiled for the camera. We were able to savor this family bliss for about 2.5 hours. It was not long enough. I had to make a conscious effort not to cry when it was time to say good-bye. I knew if I started they would follow and that would just be bad all the way around. We gave them gifts to play with on the car ride back to CA, we blew kisses and the social worker made promises of trying to get a visit to NC this summer. And instead of my heart breaking while saying good-bye, it grew. It grew as only a parent’s (guardian, care-giver) heart can. It grew the size of four small children (including our own dear sweet little girl) ranging in age from seven to one. It was great to see them all smiling, happy and healthy.

It was good to reconnect. Aug. 10th is the next court date.

I have a love/hate relationship with my scale. I love when it shows numbers I want to see and I hate it when it doesn’t show me the numbers I want to see. I am addicted to my scale. For two years I have weighed myself at least once a day (in the morning, after I’ve peed, if you must know) and I think that proves I’m a little crazy. I’ve considered not weighing for a month, based on the whole, “it takes 28 days to change/break your habit”. So far I’ve been wildly unsuccessful at not weighing. How else will I know if I’m progressing? How will I know if I’m eating right? And I know all the answers to those questions, “go by how you feel” “go by how your clothes fit”, blah, blah, blah…

Today is a perfect example of why I should take a scale break. I weighed first thing this morning, as per above and the scale produced a lovely number, I was thrilled. Oh happy day the new plan is working. Then I showered, dried off, blew my hair dry and just before I got dressed I wanted to see that beautiful (confirming) number again. The second time around the number was increased by 1.5. *sigh* seriously?  Where did my fabulous number go? I had seen the second number several times. There is nothing magical about the second number. Hm… maybe that means there’s nothing magical about the first number either. And why should how I feel be dictated by a number?

Then I saw this quote and it made me think that my days on the scale may be numbered (no pun intended)

“Balance is what you find when you step off the scale”

At the end of December we recieved paperwork from the state of NC to begin the official process of becoming eligible to adopt our nieces and nephew. The paperwork was pretty much as expected, our general personal and contact info, work history, family history and then the not so expected “life story”.

Three pages of the packet they sent us was devoted to questions for us to individually answer about how we came to be the people we are today. It covered everything from “describe your mother and father, what was your relationship like growing up, what is your relationship like today. describe the homes you grew up in. describe your relationship with your siblings, now and in the past. describe what you like most about your spouse, and least. how do you make decisions in your family. how are emotions displayed in your family” and it went on and on like that for three typewritten pages.

(more…)

Jeremy found this as part of a Fark headline. He read the stats to me and I absolutely could not believe it.

If you aren’t going to the link I’ll go ahead and tell you, it’s a milkshake available from Baskin & Robbins that has 2600 calories with 1220 of them from fat. I feel a coronary coming on just reading that. It’s a huge (36 ounce) shake, but I’m sure I could drink it. How many people are drinking these with no clue?

For those who need a little perspective, according to Cooking Light magazine a woman 25-50 years of age should take in no more than 2000 calories in a day. When I had my last heart rate test at the gym my number was around 1600 to lose weight. In a one hour spin class I usually burn between 500 and 600 calories. That means that if I drank (DRANK I wouldn’t even get to chew it!) this shake I would have to work my ass off in 5 spin classes JUST TO STAY AHEAD of the calories. And that doesn’t even account for the 59 grams of SATURATED fat. I wouldn’t be able to have a cholesterol test for like 3 months!

I guess my point is this, know what you are using for fuel. Fuel, that’s how I’ve come to look at food most recently. Is what I’m putting in my body going to help me do what I need to do? Is it going to get me through the day? through the stress? through the work-outs? If I eat crap I’m going to feel like crap. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of feeling like crap.

Eat consciously, be aware. Even when you splurge, be aware.

P.S. another possible word for the year: Focus