home scale = doctor's office scale! hurrah!

I went to the doctor this week. For the first time in my life my home scale and the doctor’s office scale say the same thing. In the past my home scale has always been about 5 pounds less than the doctor’s office scale. This created an internal dialogue, which weight is true? Which is correct? I end up feeling like I am lying to myself all the time. The discrepancy creates anxiety.

When I first got this new scale and immediately ‘gained’ 5 pounds, I had to struggle to accept that. I knew that I hadn’t gained any weight. I had to accept the new number on the scale. That is my weight. When I went to the doctor’s office, there was a huge sense of freedom. Aha, that is my weight. I can live with that number. I am comfortable here. I felt that I was being honest with myself for the first time.

As a scientist, I know that weight is a relative measurement. The actual number has no particular meaning. You could set the scale anywhere. You can measure in pounds, kilos or stones. Whether it reads 140 or 180 is inconsequential. What matters are the relative numbers, the proportions, and the direction of changes. Actually, if I think clearly about it, what I really care about is how my body is functioning.

I am at my natural weight. My body likes to hold onto a little bit of adipose tissue in my belly and my thighs. To lose that tissue, to lose another 5 or 10 pounds, means obsessing about food, feeling starved, and living in deprivation. It isn’t worth it. I maintain the weight I am at and I feel healthy. My clothing fits. I can do everything I want to do. The only thing that doesn’t fit is the cultural image of what I think a body should look like. I get to keep letting go of my attachment to that cultural image.

I am grateful for this scale that tells me the same thing the doctor’s scale tells me. There is freedom here. I don’t get anxious about stepping on the scale. The scale is a tool. It gives me information.

Feasting on local fresh foods and quelling the mind's vapid refrain

It has been a busy month. Summer finally arrived. I take a deep breath. My body loves the heat. I eat less naturally. I feast on cherries and strawberries. I pick lettuce from the garden. Eating well is easy. I naturally drop about 5 pounds as I feast on fresh local produce. I feel happy. I like my body and I like my life.

And then this funny old voice speaks in my head “wouldn’t it be fun to lose 5 more pounds.” What does that mean? Why would it be fun to lose more weight? Whose voice is that? It might be my Mother’s voice. I know it was my bff Nancy’s voice. Cindy used to talk in that voice, as did Joan. It once belonged to Doris. I know it belonged to Jan. Gael has heard that voice too. And it still resides in my head. 20 years of meditation and that voice still resides in my head. It begins to play all by itself, regardless of what I want to listen too. Like my old ipod that always starts on the same song.

I can change the song on my ipod and I can change the refrain in my head. I’m tired of the voice. I’ve been tired of it for years. It is an old refrain. And my true self, my bigger self, doesn’t care about losing weight any more. But still the voice plays on. Drones on. Reasserts itself without my choosing it.

I remind myself: I like my body and I like my life. I am happy. I enjoy feeding myself fresh food. I love picking my own food. I love the miracle of food growing from the earth: soil + water + sun + seeds = food! I think if I sat very still I could observe the zucchini vine lengthening, the berries turning blue, and the apples getting bigger. Next year I’ll plant a wider variety of edibles in my small patch of earth. I'm already looking forward to next years bounty.

I keep returning to loving myself. Feeding myself is an act of love. Starving myself is an act of abuse. What is the most loving thing I can do for myself tonight? A bowl of cherries for desert? Pick plums? I am a happy healthy woman.

It is a good time to be alive. It is a blessing to have this body. Regardless of the voice’s refrain, life would be no more fun if I was thinner. In fact, life would be painful and I would be obsessive if I was actually trying to lose 5 more pounds. Trying to lose weight saps all the joy from my life. And I believe in joy. Joy trumps 5 less pounds any day. And so do the Queen Anne Cherries I picked from a wild tree.