Halfway into January, I’ve noticed a pattern of behaviour that is pertinent to my process of change. I often look at my relationship with certain experiences via my position on a scale. When I recognise that I need to move along the scale, I tend to leap from one end to the opposite end before landing somewhere nearer the middle (eventually, with a bit of a hope and a lot of prayer).
Back in December, I felt decidedly smug as I sat on the sofa feeling warm and snug. Unlike some of my married friends, I don’t have any thermostat police residing in my home which means I can keep it as warm as I like. As a child I hated the house being cold (not just physically), so I like a warm home now. I especially enjoy this warmth not creating a conflict with anyone.
However, I felt decidedly less smug or subsequently snug, when I received the corresponding heating bill! This meant my laissez faire attitude to flicking the heating on and forgetting all about it had to be immediately replaced by taking on the thermostat police position, as well as the, ‘I don’t want to be freezing my arse off’ position. It’s called practising balance and boundaries while managing internal conflicts! Who needs a husband when I can create conflicts within myself!
Yesterday, I started my heating bill reduction program by taking advantage of my morning coffee sweats, a midday run, a slow cooked casserole and later, a long soak in a hot bath. In addition, I utilised my ‘can’t sit still’ way of being, or rather of excess-doing, approach to free time.
When I eventually did sit down to catch up with a friend online, I did so sporting my dual purpose blanket-scarf, hat and proper blanket (on top of my usual clothes) while keeping my paws and insides warm, courtesy of hot tea. It’s become a creative challenge to manage my basal temperature while restricting the number of hours I put the heating on for. I’m attempting to reduce the next bill enough to avoid another sharp intake of breath followed by a swift release of any lingering smugness.
In other pattern spotting, smugness reducing realisations, I discovered that the difficulty I had in re-gaining weight, after being unwell, has now ended. I congratulated myself heartily for not gaining more weight over Christmas. But now, having formed a nightly sugar shovelling habit in the name of getting shot of leftovers, I’ve begun to show signs of a paunch. As I’m far too uncomfortable with that, I’m now implementing restrictions on my intake of remaining Christmas chocolates.
This process has been further aided by Channel 4’s program, Eat Smart, with The Glucose Goddess. I love this – it is simple and has pictures! It also makes sense and offers manageable tweaks to eating habits that reduce glucose spikes. In turn, this can stabilise mood/energy and hormones. A hattrick of wins that counterbalances the loss of sugar intake.
Anyway, this program shares hacks like, ‘eat your vegetables before your carbs’, or, only eat sweet treats after a balanced meal of protein, fat (yes you heard me right – fat is NOT the enemy or rather sugar is the latest replacement of it) and fibre. Apparently, layering your gut with these slows the absorption of glucose thus reducing the spike. This matters because such spikes cause inflammation in the body which contributes to other issues. And, it turns me right off from spending my evenings on the sofa mindlessly shovelling until I am surrounded by empty chocolate wrappers.
I find the human relationship with food to be utterly fascinating. This latest glucose related knowledge offers another creative challenge around how to implement these hacks within daily eating practices.
The third area of learning is around my relationship to spending. I have never suffered from spend-a-holic-ism. Largely helped by a dislike of noise creating crowds plus impatience aggravating queues. I have my fair share of ‘ism’s but spending hasn’t been one of them. Fuelled further by a fear of lack, dating back to when my seventeen-year-old self was kicked out of home.
Anyway, the more God free’s me from tight-arse-fear-driven-itus by reminding me it is all God’s money anyway, the more I permit myself to treats. No more, ‘that cheap old crap will do’, and lots more,’ it just WONT do so I’ll have something I really like’. I’m not talking reckless, just generous, because this is how God is with me. And if it’s alright for him, it’s ok for me to be like this with me and others.
As per my process of change, I have leapt from watching every penny, to waving my plastic cards in the air like I just don’t care. Serious spending sprees are alien to me, but I am adapting frighteningly fast. I’m not talking designer, status-seeking bollocks. But I am talking quirky, characterful, creative and original. Oh yes. Think charity shops, second hand markets/shops and the likes, with a bit of FB market and B & M thrown in! But now, the financial controller part of me is stepping in with stern suggestions around budget shaped boundaries.
The learning never ends!
On a lighter note, this week I discovered a fitting purpose for my cake forks. A friend gave me four stunningly beautiful, if naively small, cake forks presented in a pretty box. These are fabulous to look at but evoke enormous irritation when used for the job they are intended for. They are so tiny, they can only pick up the most minute crumb of cake. As someone not up for being slowed down on any front in any way, these were consigned to the ‘find another use for’ pile.
I typically use forks for cake because I can’t be arsed to wash my hands before or after eating it as opposed to having any delusions of ladylike-ness. But the ones I use, bear more resemblance to a shovel than a minute-morsel-picker. So, yesterday while indulging in a ‘currently all the rage’ avocado starter (or perhaps I’m slow to this particular party), I suddenly realised it was a bit too mushy for finger food. (Does anyone know how to play the lottery of pick-an-avo, better than me; read more green ones and less brown?) Either way, in a moment of genius, I realised the tiny not-for-cake forks would be perfect for spearing pieces of slightly mushy avo with. They would also prevent any need for handwashing – gotta love a two birds approach right?
The other light-hearted enjoyable exchange occurred during my supermarket meanderings earlier in the week. See previous blog post.
While I was checking out the bedsheets covered in the word ‘sale’, the lady next to me, declared,
“No ironing? I’m in’.
We both laughed and she went on to tell me that her mother gave her one piece of advice ahead of her marriage,
“When your husband asks you to iron something for him, do one item extremely badly”.
Again, we both laughed and this time, I replied,
“I went a step further and didn’t even get the husband!”.
In fact, the more I listen to some wives talking about their husbands, whether ex or current, the more I think a wife would be a wiser option! Or perhaps the ultimate combo would be a husband and a wife!