indulgence

Decadent Toffee – Day 949

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The Toffee About Which This Is Written – Photo: L. Weikel

Decadent Toffee

Sometimes we need a little help from our friends to get a job accomplished. And my job tonight is to follow through on my nightly devotion and fulfill my Act of Power on behalf of my son Karl. Surely you might think if all I have to do is write something – anything! – each night, then meeting my obligation should be easy. But trust me, that’s an illusion. And that is where the help of my friends, and in this case, decadent toffee, comes in.

There’s no minimum number of words required or specific topics that demand coverage. So what’s the big deal, you might ask? Staying awake. Thinking of something to write about within the vast ocean of life. (It’s harder than you might think.)

Searching For Indulgence

I try not to indulge in my vices too often but sometimes it’s unavoidable. Hmm. Re-reading that sentence, I’m compelled to clarify: The truth is, I try not to write about indulging my vices too often!

If I do a keyword search of my blogs, though, I discover that I’ve mentioned chocolate something like 27 times and Owowcow ice cream at least five times. I have a sneaking suspicion that I must’ve screwed up on that in some way. It seems beyond comprehension that I only mentioned Owowcow 5 times in over 900 posts. Even if I’ve tried to curb my tendency to write about my indulgences – that seems rather unbelievable.

Makes me think I should search the more generic term: ice cream.

Never Mind

Yeah…never mind. I just did said search and, not surprisingly, 33 posts were referenced. But I’m claiming skepticism on this. For instance, I re-read one of the posts that came up under the search term ‘ice cream’ (a post entitled “Double Icing”) and for the life of me, I don’t see that I mentioned ice cream once in that post.

Perhaps I’m distracted by all the talk of cake and icing in that post. After all, the whole point to this post this evening is the fact that I’m so tired that the only way I’m keeping my eyes open at this point is by savoring a few gooey, finger-licking pieces of utterly sinful toffee my kids left on my kitchen table the last time they visited.

Oh. My. Goodness.

Success! Sort Of?

It’s time for bed. I’ve mostly only succeeded in doing a bit of re-con on the posts I’ve written that might qualify me for an Oral Fixation Award.

I do want to give a shout out to Sage and Sarah, though. The toffee got me to the other side tonight. It’s delicious, it’s sinful, the caffeine in the chocolate and the sugar throughout were beyond yummy and helped keep me focused. Sort of.

Note: I did not finish the box. The decadent toffee depicted in the photo above may be somewhat diminished – but self-control was exercised in the writing of this post.

(T-162)

Back on Track – Day 518

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Bursting Daffodil – Photo: L. Weikel

Back On Track

I have a confession: I’ve been absolutely indulgent lately. I know it’s been a stress response, but I also know that succumbing to the temptation to “eat for today since tomorrow may not come” is a tad short-sighted. I’m ready to get back on track.

It’s weird how we can blame our behavior on almost anything. Yes, we’re in the midst of a pandemic the likes of which hasn’t been experienced in a century. And yes, our country seems to be falling apart at the seams.

I’ve typed and deleted a number of sentences and paragraphs. And the truth is, I don’t want to rail against anybody or anything this evening. I want to stop going for the sugar high.

To be fair in my depiction of myself, I’ve only fallen asleep on my determination to eat as healthily as possible throughout this pandemic experience over the past week or so. Of course, the two birthdays within a few weeks were probably the catalysts.

Once I start eating cake, my inner Indulgent One starts to regain her voice. And wow, can she be mouthy. And persistent. And oh-so-persuasive. So I’m finding myself facing the consequences of a good three weeks of rampant indulgence.

Harder to Look On the Bright Side of Life

One of the most striking results of my consumption of a lot of baked goods is feeling down. Especially when I eat a lot of stuff with icing. My usual perspective is gone. Out the door.

And quite honestly, I find it pretty hard to talk myself out of my miserable perspective when I’m wallowing in it.

All of which brings me here: to this page, at this moment. I am tired. I know that my crappy perspective is tied 100% to what I’ve been eating. And what I’m feeling right now is trickling into everything. I don’t want that to happen.

But Not Impossible

So I’m going to cut this short. I’ll include a few photos that will hopefully call in the perspective I seek, and then I’m going to say goodnight. If all goes well, my optimism will return – if not tomorrow, certainly by Tuesday. It never ceases to amaze me how profound an influence my nutrition has on my entire experience of life.

The most important lesson here is remembering and reclaiming what I can control. No, I can’t control a whole heck of a lot that’s going on in the world right now. But I can control what I put into my mouth. And the sooner I see (actually remember, as this is nothing new) that I actually feel better when I’m eating clean and going really easy on the desserts, the better I’ll be able to enjoy creating a new way of life for myself and my family.

And right on cue, the winds are whipping up outside. Facilitating the shift. Getting me back on track.

Change is coming.

Easter Dandelion – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-593)

A Stark Reminder – Day 295

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Trees on Apu Azez – Photo: L. Weikel

A Stark Reminder   

I suppose, instead of titling this post A Stark Reminder, I could also have called it A Stark Realization.

Both the reminder and the realization have to do with the way life used to be. The really and truly completely different way we lived our daily lives before cell phones.

Good grief, I know; I hear myself! I sound like some old coot opining from her rocking chair as she watches life parade past her from the comfort of her porch.

<<Wait a minute…Too close for comfort…>>

Can’t Remember the Last Time

I can’t remember the last time I allowed myself to sit and read a novel, non-stop, for close to four hours straight.

As I’ve mentioned a bazillion times in these posts (that’s what happens when you write every day – you discover the shockingly limited repertoire of your daily thoughts), reading and writing are two of my top favorite activities in the whole world. And I used to read non-stop. And while it’s true, I take a book everywhere I go, (always have and always will – thank you for that habit, Mommy), I’m chagrined to admit that a vast amount of potential book time is usurped by those fleeting, yet oh-so-seductive siren calls, “I’ll just check the headlines first. And see whether I’ve received any emails. Oh! So-and-so texted me, I better write back…”

Anyway, today I was at a place where there is ‘no service.’ Yea! After making the strikingly uncharacteristic decision not to write in my journal before doing anything else, I planted myself practically in the middle of the creek, my perch on a boulder made more comfortable through use of a backjack, and r-e-a-d.

Unexpected Resistance

It was strange, too. I could feel my inherent discomfort in applying my attention to a long-term task . The first hour or so, I probably looked up, shifted my position, talked to myself, and otherwise distracted myself every five to ten minutes. It was ridiculous.

Eventually, though, it was as if my brain and psyche remembered ‘the good old days’ when I would sit and read for hours and hours on end, and I found that old groove again.

Heaven!

I’m currently in the midst of reading a couple of books at the same time. But the one I immersed myself in today would probably be loved by many of you: The Overstory by Richard Powers.

Ooooh! It’s so delicious. And like all great novels, the deeper you get into it, the more you find it nearly impossible to tear yourself away from it.

The coolest thing, I think, is realizing there’s a connection between the books I’m reading – even if, at first glance, one might think they’re going to be radically different. When you realize that the non-fiction book you’re reading is saying one thing, and the novel that’s begged to be read is pretty much saying the same thing, only displaying it via fictional characters – you know you’re being sent a message.

Where I Am

I’m in a state of bliss, having taken a deep dive into the essence of The Overstory and realized I’m getting a message. A consistent message. From a variety of sources.

But this day, I managed to slow myself down, remember the way life used to be when we weren’t tethered to the sugar-water bait of the cell phone, and immersed myself in other worlds for a while.

A stark reminder of something I don’t do enough.

Blue Heron – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-816)

Bad Habits – Day Twenty Nine

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 Bad Habits

In yesterday’s post I wrote that I was chagrined to discover that my practice of journal writing has clearly suffered as I have worked to fulfill my daily commitment in the form of the 1111 Devotion. I’d recently realized that I’d allowed an entire 14 days to go by without writing in my journal, which is a serious breach, in my book. And it isn’t that I’m blindly demanding daily journaling in addition to my commitment here; but I am saying that this act of neglect is one of several bad habits I indulge in – and not something I want to encourage within myself.

My reasoning, as I said yesterday, is two-fold, with the first being the simple fact that maintaining a journal has been a huge and essential part of my life for the vast majority of it. Journaling keeps my head on straight. It helps me see things differently than when thoughts and feelings are simply chasing each other around in my head, and it clarifies my emotions. This is true in spite of the fact that my discipline was nearly derailed when I realized I might not always be able to assume my privacy was assured. That’s how important journaling is to me.

My second reason for not condoning the sacrifice of my journaling is because it would defeat the purpose of my 1111 Devotion. It would strip it of its essence as an Act of Power. How is it rightfully a devotional practice to simply substitute one form of writing for another? What about that would be meaningful?

Not much.

Games My Mind Plays

It’s fascinating to see the little games my mind plays. The compromises I engage in – and to what end? Depriving myself of doing that which I love the most? Atta girl, Lisa. You’ll show them! (Who? Myself?)

It’s just dumb. And akin to that whole indulgence stream of thought I wrote about a few days ago.

I guess I’m realizing just how much this happens. How often I procrastinate on or outright refuse to engage in behavior that will only serve to make me happy or improve my life experience.

As I sit here contemplating just how much this behavior permeates my life, I’m disturbed by such a propensity. Not only do I seem to go on a guilt trip when I ‘indulge’ in turning off the tv and reveling in silence, but I also apparently sabotage my efforts to do what I love and live my life in beauty and ease and comfort.

Time to knock this shit off, I say.

(T-1082)

Indulgence – Day Twenty Seven

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 7 Comments

 

Indulgence

It seems I struck a chord with my post on evening silence last night.

Why is it that so many of us find it difficult to give ourselves permission to indulge in those experiences that make us feel wistful when we contemplate them? And why do we consider engaging in those experiences indulgent?

When I started writing this post, I was surprised by how I almost feel naughty when imagining myself basking in evening silence, giving myself all the time I desire to immerse myself in another world for a while or write in my journal. And I could almost hear that same tinge-of-guilt-yearning in many of the comments I read to yesterday’s musing.

What is it about indulgence? Does it mean to give ourselves permission to do something risqué?

Nope!

According to the World Book Dictionary, to ‘indulge’ means: v. to give way to one’s pleasure (in); let oneself have use, or do what one wants; to give in to the wishes or whims of; humor.

Why Do We Make Ourselves Wrong?

I find it fascinating that my knee-jerk reaction to ‘letting myself do what I want’ – particularly something as nurturing as disconnecting from the chaos of the outside world – is something that provokes a vague sense being flighty or irresponsible or, as I said above, slightly naughty.

It’s weird.

Why is the idea of spending our time in ways that bring smiles to our hearts and joy to our eyes considered humoring ourselves?

When I let myself ‘go deep’ and really think about how much time any of us have in a particular lifetime, and how I actually spend my time, I can quickly lapse into a state of pre-melancholy if I’m not careful. There are a lot of things I do mindlessly. A lot of activities that I only do because, ugh – I hate to admit it – ‘everyone else does.’

Start Indulging In the Good Stuff NOW

I do not want to get to the end of my life and wish I’d indulged myself more often.

Because why the hell shouldn’t I indulge myself now? And why shouldn’t you? My indulgences are not of the sort that hurt anyone else. They don’t even harm either my own body or soul, as one might argue excessive drinking or debauchery (what a great word, that) might. While I do not know what your indulgences might entail, I imagine many are of a sweet, creative nature.

Permitting yourself to write those poems. Giving yourself an uncluttered space to paint. Shoving the couch to the side of the room and allowing yourself to dance. Allowing yourself to listen to the wind and play that haunting tune you hear on your acoustic guitar.

I feel a revolution coming on. A revolution of indulgence.

What secret yearning do you hold within that calls for you to humor today? Join me.

(T-1084)

Ice Cream Confession – Day Twenty (T-1091)

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Ice Cream Confession

Oh my Goddess, I should never have eaten that ice cream. I made the mistake last night of rewarding myself for – I don’t even know what, getting through the week? – by swinging past Owowcow and buying two pints of ice cream. All natural, organic-where-possible, locally-sourced ingredients in this hand-crafted ice cream, folks. It is good stuff.

I haven’t had any for quite a while (at least several weeks). But after my session with my client yesterday, I was seized with the brilliant idea that I should pop in to see if they had any unique flavors on offer – perhaps with a holiday theme.

As I drove up Route 412, at first I thought they might be closed. But as I approached the traffic light which marks its place on the map, I was beckoned by the soft amber light cascading out of the store’s picture windows. It felt like an oasis in the dark of the gloomy, starless night.

I took pity on the high schoolers tending ice cream bar last night; clearly they needed someone from the community to stop and make their employment worthwhile. I was their only customer; it was my responsibility to make a purchase. A pint of candy cane chocolate chip and another of espresso came home with me. The former flavor definitely unique to the holiday; the latter not. But I can’t remember the last time I had coffee ice cream, much less espresso. It called to me.

Funny, though – once I got home and made dinner, I didn’t bring it out. I didn’t even mention it to Karl, nor did I think about it for myself. I almost forgot about it.

But tonight? Well, that was a different story. Karl fell asleep on the couch fairly early and I was left to my own devices. I could hear the rain pouring down outside, the night once again cold and opaque.

I thought about my pick for the day (you knew that was coming, right?), and had to chuckle. Hardly any introspective spin to this tale. Nope. I’d chosen Rabbit reversed/Bat.

Hmm. Rabbit. Fear. Right side up, it’s a frustrating and not entirely unfamiliar story of being rejected. And then cursed. Not pretty. When it’s reversed, though, I like to focus on this recommendation:

“Take a hint from Rabbit. Burrow into a safe space to nurture yourself and release your fears until it is time again to move into the pasture, clear of prowlers who wasn’t a piece of your juicy energy.”

I didn’t feel like I was in danger, but I did feel like curling up into a soft, warm burrow and nurturing myself with ice cream. And Bat underneath? Well, I do feel as though I am dying to an old way of life and birthing something new. Not sure what yet, but it can be scary.

And now my tummy hurts. And it’s approaching midnight. And I realize all I’ve done is lament my indulgence – and justified it by my card pick this morning. Ugh. Gross.

But it was tasty. And that evil Owowcow deliciousness…the creamy delicacy melts ever so slowly and you just have to keep smoothing it off with your spoon, you know? Until all of a sudden you realize you’ve evened it out almost to the bottom of the container.