Here's To The New Year!!

Soon it will be 2015.  The new year brings so many hopes, new beginnings and promises we make to ourselves.  However, I see it's mainly about hope; for me anyway.  Hope for another chance, hope for another dream to become a reality, hope for miracles. I love miracles.  Even the ones that find me a parking space when there seems to be none to be found. I love them!

I've had a lot of free time the past week or so.  It feels good to just sit, maybe get up and clean a bit, sit again, play on the computer, check people's lives out on facebook, watch hgtv  over and over and of course, Millionaire Matchmaker.  For some reason this holiday has not been the heavy, intense looking back at my past, keeping in mind spirituality is 'supposed' to be at the forefront of my existence, type holiday. I am however,  grateful for how rich I really am in the big picture of life.  Don't get me wrong; I do think on those aspects...a lot. But it's really nice to space out and be a mouth breather for a while.

Getting back to hopes, dreams and all that other stuff.





 At my age, I still feel there is so much ahead of me although I realize just how fragile life can be. I ended the year being able to do what I have dreamed of doing for the past four or five years now; decorating someone else's home and actually getting real money for the endeavor.  My client was the sweetest young lady, (Meaning she was about my daughter's age.) who is busy with four kids and a huge, relatively new, home.  I was in heaven when I saw her home.  I was in heaven, even feeling high, when I was able to put all of my ideas into realities.  In the end, she was very happy with my work, and I was very appreciative of her trust in my decisions.  And her home?  It came to life with a warm smile of gratefulness .

When I do things like this it's truly like objects have their own soul.





 I refinished an old cabinet for her and as one step after another made it closer to the finishing product,




 I felt  it coming to life; being grateful that I hadn't given up hope in it's potential.  I felt it saying  it wanted another chance at beauty, at life, at a home to shine in. And I gave it that chance.






 It sure proved to be worth it as the cabinet is now sitting in an honored, special place in their huge entryway.  Happy ending.



So, for Christmas my husband gave me a 'website'. Yep, that's right! A website all my own.  It's called SpaceSweetSpace.com.  At least I think that's the way it's supposed to be typed into the search engine. No, I haven't even built it yet, it's waiting to be birthed.  Wish me luck on that!  Thus begins my journey into 2015.  Hopes and dreams of doing what I want to do AND just maybe, hopefully, getting paid....getting paid well.  (The doubter in me just wonders on that one...but hey, anything's possible.)

I suppose I should get out all my self help books, all of my inspirational 'you can do it' books and just cover myself in encouragement and positive framing.  I probably will do just that, after this one last episode of Millionaire Matchmaker.

Yet again, always again, I digress.  The future.  Hopes and dreams.  Love and beauty.  Relationships and life.





That's what it's all about. I have no idea what the new year holds.  Life has been pretty wonderful the last few years.  No drama, just a great life in the sun, never too cold, never too hot. I'm looking forward to another year like this one, only with one new addition:  Space Sweet Space.  It will not be the norm, it will not follow the rules, it will be amazingly beautiful.


Here's to you and your dreams.  I'll lift a glass to all who read this, and I'll hope, dream, and pray all your happiness comes true this year.  love!

Ode to My Daughter

Last night at a party I was talking to a mutual friend of our daughter's and ours. My daughter used to train at the gym I go to and this friend took her classes. He told me how he missed her, how there is no one like her, etc. etc.  As I listened something remarkable happened.  I suddenly started seeing her not as my daughter but as a woman in her own right.






The friend proceeded to tell me about how strong she is, about what a presence she has.  He told me when she walks into a room, everyone knows she's there.



Yes, my daughter. A quietly powerful woman who changes the atmosphere of a room for the better....always for the better.  Gracious, elegant, sophisticated and wise.

If you have a grown daughter you may get what I'm writing about.  I've watched her grow, but  never was able to step back, take off my "mother" hat and see her as someone I've just met. Last night I had the "ah ha" moment, last night it happened.  In some odd way, my momma hat blew off and there she was, in my mind, unattached to me.  I like her a lot!

The strange thing about this whole new perspective is now I see this strong woman, yet I switch to another scene.  She is lying in her newborn aquarium  (that's sure what it looked like to me as they were taking me to recovery after an emergency c-section done under general anesthetic )  They stopped in the hallway and rolled up  a little glass container where my new baby lay.  It looked like a tv screen with a tiny, fragile, porcelain human type doll  with the most amazing eyes.  Piercing eyes.  They looked straight into my soul, and mine into hers.  For the first time I felt what truly is unconditional, pure love.  Never before had I experienced such a powerfully deep force.  And of course, I teared up.   That moment was seared to my soul.  I'll never forget it....It's like it was just yesterday it's so clear!



As a mother I have so many regrets.  I still do.  Not standing up for her enough, not cuddling her 24 hours a day, you know, the same old stuff that can keep your mind from thinking about the weather when it's 3 a.m. and you've had too much coffee that day.  But I want this to be about her, not me. I digress.

Back to my girl, now beautiful woman.  This friend from our party last night talked about how he misses her  and I could tell he was sincere.  So many people say the same thing. I see they're not just saying it because that's what you say when someone says goodbye.  It's been a while since she's been gone and they still tell me the same thing.  We have a trainer who's taken her place and what is said when they talk about my girl;   "Yes, the new guy is nice, he's a good trainer, but he's not Shauna."

She is now in the ranks of the underpaid,  under appreciated teachers dealing with our country's greatest natural resource, children.  This is what she was meant to do...at least for now.  Her passion is evident when I hear her talk about experiences with  the students.  Her love, compassion and wisdom  follow her around like the sun would if it were never to set and there wasn't  a cloud in the sky.




 In her personal life, she juggles three kids, a husband, a dog, a cat and a home.





 Something I know I could never do without being a grouchy bitch.  She takes it in stride and deals with all of the rocky places with grace. She, of course, won't see it that way. Maybe someday she will...I hope so.









She is determined, sassy, beautiful, and chooses her words carefully. But when she finally does speak, she means what she says.  She's to the point, firm, and all done with a beautiful  smile..




So, I'm talking about my little girl here.  This baby I brought into the world those years ago when I was just a young thing myself.  Now, she has her own girl to ponder , to love, to watch grow, to someday write about.








 (Did I mention what an amazing writer she is?)







It brings to mind the song GiGi. I'll change the words a little, but the sentiment is there, in me.

Getting older, it is true
which is what they always dotill that unexpected hourwhen they blossom like a flower! But...but,There's sweeter music when she speaksIsn't there?Could I be wrong?Could it be so?Oh where, oh wheredid that little girl go? Am I a fool without a mindOr have I merely been too blind to realise
You're not at all
That funny, awkward little girl, I knew
Oh no! Over night there's been a breathless change in you While you were trembling on the brink
was I out yonder somewhere blinking at a star?
Have I been standing up too close
or back too far?
When did your sparkle turn to fire?
And your warmth become desire?
Oh what miracle has made you the way you are?

Why you've been growing up before my very eyes

Finding Our Way Home

Christmas is a time of year that brings this longing in me which is usually neatly tucked away all year  long with the Christmas decorations. And then, there it is....Again and again.  Year after year.





The longing consistently echoes,  " I want to go home."





“For twenty years I have ached to go back home, when there was nobody there to whom I could return.” 
― Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith  

I used to have a recurring dream that I was in the town where I was born and raised.  I was a few miles from my childhood home walking down the dark, neighborhood streets.  In the dream it's always night time. Even though I was only a mile or so away, it seemed like worlds away...in my dream.  Only once did I make it back, and it was only to the front yard.  The yard wasn't recognizable.  It even had a gate around it. I didn't go in. 

I think of all my loved ones who have died. I think I feel them more  this time of year.  Is it because they're on my mind more? Or something else? Home is just one of those words...I think of love, I think of being known, I think of days gone by, I think of my own humanity.

But really, home is grace.  It's where we are fully accepted.

 God became flesh.  God became a child, a toddler, a teenager, a young man.  Jesus was fully human. 

 There were some who totally annoyed him. And there were some who encouraged him. Some turned out to be his friends. Some turned on him; betrayed him.  He had the same things in him that we have. 

The desire for sex, the temptation to get really angry and lash out, the temptation to defend himself, the temptation to defend what he believed. The temptation to eat too much, drink too much.  He didn't though. He didn't defend any of that.  Once, he got really angry...and it was over money. And it was in a house of worship.  It was over greed.  But he was always pretty quiet. I think he probably really was intense. People probably thought he was too sensitive.  And I believe he hung out with people like me.   I'm not so sure he'd be sitting in many of our churches...but hey..maybe?

"So the story goes, so I'm told
The people he knew were
Less than golden hearted
Gamblers and robbers
Drinkers and jokers, all soul searchers
Like you and me"

That is grace.  Jesus, not doctrine, not religion, but Jesus, his example, his words, have set an example for me that helps me know how to get back home; get back to that innocence that was lost so long ago. 

 

It's a long journey.  Lots of bumps in the road, lots of times feeling the need for a good shot of vodka, chocolate or too much food .  But in spite of the bumps, after the vodka, after too much eating,  there it is; home...grace. Like a beautiful shining castle in the midst of the ghetto. It's such a mystery, such a miracle.  It is the lighthouse of humanities sea that guides us home.

“I do believe that God is with us even in our craziest, most obsessive, most neurotic moments.  It's  this goodness that guides, provides, and protects.” 
― Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith

Emanuel...peace on earth and goodwill to men.

Love you and thanks for reading!!!

For the Love of Lexy

Watching Lexy, my older, American Eskimo rescue go downhill is so  painful for me. 



 Sometimes I just sort of cry for a few seconds.  I feel this sort of  achy tremor in my heart and then the tears come. She came to me 15 years ago at the city church I used to attend in Kansas City. She had been badly abused and very neglected.  She found a home with a student of mine and I didn't give her another thought until his mother came in, almost hysterical, and said that Lexy had torn up her bathroom window and screen. Come to find out, Lexy was just trying to get out of being locked in a stranger's bathroom for over 8 hours a day.  Gawd!!

 So I took her home and the rest is history.  She was very depressed and anxious. Every time she would get in the car with me she would throw up all over the seats.  It was so sad.  The fear in that dog was indescribable. She truly had issues.  Every time I would leave the house she would tear something up.  My whole family had problems with her.  My husband even told me that if I got another dog it would be the dog or him.  I brought Lexy home anyway, and he's still with me.

She has been my confidant, best friend, angel and constant companion for 15 years in January. She has been a real handful though.  She would leap our 4 foot fence like a gazelle and terrorize our suburban neighborhood. She didn't trust people at all, except for me. I mean, what else could she do but trust me?  That's the thing with dogs. They are at our mercy.  They have very little choice as to how they are going to live their lives. But I love her and the other dogs we had loved her too.


Now, all these years later, she's lying on the floor next to me, eyes open, lying still.  She can't hear anymore, and her eyesight isn't so great either.  I carry her down the steps and lift her up to get on the bed with me. In the middle of the night I wake up and know she wants to go out.  I carry her down the steps and let her out to do her thing.  It's difficult for me to even type this as she is my love, my best friend, and as I've said before, my constant companion.  But the end is getting near. Maybe a year more?  Maybe even two. But maybe sooner.

The grief and emptiness will almost be unbearable.  During the very hardest time in my life, she was with me.  She would travel with me, hang with me, lick my tears away, and stare at me with her sad, black eyes. How can I let go of someone that faithful? That loving? That loyal?  I don't know! Just knowing now, seeing her degenerate, seeing her sad that she can barely walk; well, the pain is almost too much to bear.

You may be thinking something like, "She's not gone yet, why start?"  She sort of is going.  She's not who she used to be. EVen she knows that something is about to end.  I see it in her eyes. All I can do is be there for her, keep on carrying her, like she carried me through so many times.  Give her all she wants and let her do whatever she wants, which is mostly sleep and eat her very favorite food ever; Freshpet.

I have two other four legged friends who I love dearly as well.  








Sometimes I can't help but think how all good things must come to an end.  It makes me sort of wonder about God.  I know, I know.  People who claim to love God always say that it's not God, it's ...yada yada yada, but in any case it's still hard to live with the fact that I believe in this all powerful God and bad things still happen.

Okay, yes, she's still with me, hobbling around the house, staring at me with her black eyes. But the only time I see her smile is when she is about to be fed.

There's a song by Patty Griffin that she wrote for her dog.  I don't think she minds that now, I have taken it and made it my song to my pretty, sweet, spirited, extremely bright and lovely baby girl Lexy.  Here's to you sweet Lexy:

Oh heavenly day, all the clouds blew away
Got no trouble today with anyone
The smile on your face I live only to see
It's enough for me, baby, it's enough for me
Oh, heavenly day, heavenly day, heavenly day

Tomorrow may rain with sorrow
Here's a little time we can borrow
Forget all our troubles in these moments so few
All we've got right now, the only thing that
All we really have to do
Is have ourselves a heavenly day
Lay here and watch the trees sway
Oh, can't see no other way, no way, no way
Heavenly day, heavenly day, heavenly day

No one at my shoulder bringing me fears
Got no clouds up above me bringing me tears
Got nothing to tell you, I've got nothing much to say
Only I'm glad to be here with you
On this heavenly, heavenly, heavenly, heavenly
Heavenly day, all the trouble's gone away
Oh, for a while anyway, for a while anyway
Heavenly day, heavenly day, heavenly day

I'll end with that.  Take care of your friends..they don't last forever. Appreciate them and look at them as if each day might be their last.

"To Change the World, Start With One Step..However Small, the First Step is Hardest of All"

Years ago when I worked for a behavior disorder school, I was called "Little Mary Sunshine".




 Nope, not by the students, by the staff.  They called me that because they said I was always positive, smiling, etc. For a huge part of my life I worked very hard to think good things about people,and situations.  Lately it's been  difficult.  So here I go with a vent; a rant....A friend of mine was diagnosed with cancer, our church was flooded and has millions of dollars worth of damage, someone else near and dear lost their job, my princess dog is getting so old I have to lift her up to make it to her favorite spot, a daughter of a friend of mine nearly lost her life going home from softball practice by getting hit by an SUV that ran a red light, and all the haters I come in contact with are truly getting on my nerves.  All the haters?  I really want to punch them.



Sadness is the root of anger I believe, so I'll succumb to that.  I don't even try much anymore not to read the horrible things going on this world.  I had a pact with myself that I would steer clear of all the crap going on in the world.  Lately, that's been badly broken.  I know when I'm in trouble when I feel a dark cloud hanging over my head.




 My dogs usually cheer me up, but I look at them and feel sick knowing someday they'll die.  Death; it's on my mind so much lately,  and that's not good, I'm still alive, my dogs are still alive, my friend's daughter is still alive, my friend who was diagnosed with cancer is still alive and my friend who lost his job has two great places who have already offered him a job.



So, it's been a few days since I last wrote what you have just read.  I have been on fb plastering all sorts of hippy, love, peace sayings on my page.  And I believe them in my heart, with all of my heart.  But most of the time my feelings do not match truth.  For instance those fuckheads (scuse my french) who behead people; I want to blow them and everyone like them up...pow, one, neat little bomb.




 But Jesus, the one that I truly look up to, the one who spoke truth more than anyone else, he told us to love them....love them....pray for them....forgive them...OMG  how is that possible???  But I still believe him, love him and try to follow him. The ' love your enemy ' thing is a real test though, of exactly how much I want to follow him.  Because we can't just rationalize that thing that he said. We can't just say something like, "well, that means.." yada, yada, yad.  It means people who are your enemies...people who do horrible, unimaginable, ruthlessly evil things.  Yeah, I find it very difficult to follow Jesus on that one..but I will try.

It's a Friday and I'm really happy to have a break from technology, demands for help in algebra, and having a time I check in and out.  It's my free time and I appreciate that immensely.  Usually on  a Friday I have a glass of red, or a shot, and unwind, and reflect about what is really important. And what is that? you might ask.  And I will say, "I'm glad you asked."  It's loving, doing for others, and loving yourself.

Wednesday night I wasn't feeling so great.  I work out three to four times a week to stay healthy so I can keep working.  Wednesday I was tired, achey and not wanting to do anything but be a mouth breather in front of the tv watching another episode of House Hunters.  I made myself pick up my pitiful a$$ and go to church to help with the aftermath of the 'great Phoenix flood.'  It actually energized me.  It was good.

So, with that I will close my ramblings for this Friday night and have a discussion with my husband soon about what is good for the world, why it is good, and then debate it all.

You have read this to the end and I thank you for your energy and time.  Love, love, love to you!

To change the world,
Start with one step.
However small,
The first step is hardest of all.

Once you get your gate,
You will walk in tall.
You said you never did,
Cause you might die trying,
Cause you might die trying.
Cause you---

If you close your eyes,
Cause the house is on fire.
And think you couldn't move,
Until the fire dies.
The things you never did,
Oh, cause you might die trying,
Cause you might die trying.
You'd be as good as dead,
Cause you might die trying,
Cause you might die trying.

If you give, you, you begin to live.
If you give, you begin to live.
You begin, you get the world.
If you give, you begin to give
You get the world, you get the world.
If you give, you begin to live.

You might die trying.
Oh, you might die trying.
Yeah, you might die trying.

The things you never did,
Cause you might die trying;
You'd be as good as dead.
You never did.

Thoughts On Weight Loss and Goals

So, on this beautiful morning in the Sonoran Desert, I'm taking a break from earthquakes, wars and rumors of wars to talk about weight loss.  Yeah, that's right, weight loss.  Since I was 10, weight has been an issue for me.  I'm sure you've read all sorts of articles regarding this subject.  If you haven't, you probably don't  have any concerns regarding the topic.  May I suggest to  you that you may want to stop reading now and move on to something more interesting and more important?  For the rest of you what I'm about to write just might strike a chord.  Maybe you'll be able to relate.

I remember when I was 10 and  preparing to do a duet with my father in a community minstrel show.  We were going to sing  "Has Anybody Seen My Gal" on stage in front of a huge amount of people;  in my mind it was huge.  I was thrilled and ready to make him proud.  Of course shopping for the perfect dress was part of the fun. Mom took me to the best shops, with  beautiful collections.  The dresses I liked the most just didn't fit and that's when it was brought to my attention that "I still had some baby fat to lose".  Honestly, I don't know if it was her or me that brought the whole baby fat subject up, but   for the first time in my life I had a knotted, frustrated, sort of panicky feeling that my body was out of control and had a mind of it's own.  Mom commented to the lady at the store who was helping us saying,  "it's just baby fat, she'll lose it".  Of course, her words didn't help, and again, I don't know if it was my imagination or what, but I could tell my mother was a little disappointed too.. I wound up getting a horrible beige (I look soooo bad in beige) taffeta dress with an olive green velvet ribbon around the waist.  I don't recall actually getting on stage with my father and the dress, but I did.  Fortunately I didn't give my weight or the dress a thought ; at least not that night.




After that, the rest is history. Thanks to Barbie, (I adored that doll, along with her boyfriend Ken and her little sister Kipper...I think that was her name.) Twiggy, and a myriad of others in the late 50's and early 60's who bombarded us with images of beautiful, young, perfect women, long lashes, long necks, long legs and of course long blonde hair.  (Yes, Barbie came in dark hair like mine, but no one wanted her so I think they finally discontinued that one.)

 Perhaps that was the end of  the period of attractive women  such as Rosiland Russel, a plumper Marilyn Monroe and Elizabeth Taylor.




The beautiful women now came in size 0, were flat chested and had bodies that almost looked like pre-pubescent little girls bodies, thanks to Twiggy.  Of course, if you had breasts, then Barbie was your model, but the breasts were the only real curves.










Even though I wasn't totally enamored by those images, I became  aware of the the thought that beauty seemed to be skin deep.  Fast forward to now.  In my life as a grown woman, I'm ashamed to admit that the tiny body icon still is alive and well.  I'll admit though, not as much.



 I did a lot of self brain washing, used some determination, and had a little help from my friends. Maybe I'm almost , that's the key word here, almost,  content with my body.  Subsequently, when I had my last child, who is now 32, I slowly gained a huge amount of weight. And that was after he was born. I went back to where I used to live for a visit and saw some old friends, one thought I was pregnant.  How embarrassing is that?

 I read all sorts of things to help me accept myself just the way I was.  All that did was cause me to push the issue of self hate deeper down and into a huge messy bucket of denial in my soul.  You see,  I was fat, not just a little chubby, I was fat.  I was lost inside  my body and lost inside a world of  having to care for others over myself.  Diets were not in the forefront of my life, and eating was an easy way to escape from the pressures of everyday life.  (I didn't drink then.  Probably should have. Ha!)






Fortunately I had a  husband who constantly told me how beautiful I was.  Nope, it didn't help my self image, but it helped our relationship.  But that's a whole 'nother blog. Then my other half had a birthday which escorted him into the throngs of a midlife crisis and he announced, "I'm old, fat, bald and ugly and the only thing I can do anything about is the fat part.  I'm joining a gym."  That was it, I wasn't going to let him go to a place where cute, tight little bodies walked confidently around carrying weights and running on treadmills.  I joined too.  Thus began my journey of conscientiously saying good-bye to my "baby fat".

When an intense life crisis finally ended (which caused me to lose another 20 lbs on top of the 20 I had already lost) I was on the road to happiness.  Sort of.   I gained about 15 to 20 lbs of  back, which really wasn't such a big deal, it was pretty minuscule compared to what I originally had to lose. Yet it was a dark reminder that I could let my body get the best of me, turn on me, instead of being my friend,  and I would be lost again, inside my own flesh.

Let me just insert some clarity here:  Am I vain? Yes.  Do I put too much emphasis on physical appearance? Probably.  Should I work more on that side of me rather than the extra 10 or so pounds I need to lose? Probably. But I know me by now, the weight has to go.

 Please understand, I didn't think my mother had any issues with weight until  I mentioned to my daughter that her grandmother didn't have any problems with losing, and she was free of issues like that. My daughter laughed and said something like, "Yes she did mom!" and proceeded to give me an example.  The light in my brain went on and showed me some of the things that fueled my obsession.  Okay, before you get all judgmental let me explain.  I'm not trying to blame my mother. God knows where her issues came from because that was way before Twiggy.  But I found a picture of her when she was 8 months pregnant with me. On the back, written in her beautiful script in pencil were these words, "I was 8 months pregnant with Peggy here. I weighed 108."  YESSSSSS....did you read that? Eight months pregnant and 108 pounds.  Just recently I was going over family photos when I saw a picture of her not many years before she died. She was literally skin and bones.  Yes, she had been sick, but still.  I know that at one point of her "sickness" she said she weighed 89 or so pounds and had t buy her clothes in the children's department. Geesh.

I have been working on an extra 15 to 20 pounds for a long, long time. I officially joined the nutrition side of my gym by paying extra money to help me reach my goal. When I do, my payments will go down.  You would think that I would be sooo determined by money alone, and I am , but am now seeing my old friend Discouragement.  The scale hasn't moved in months.  Another month, another payment goes by and I'm only 5 to 3 pounds short of my goal.  I've already lost 10 pounds, 12 altogether since I've joined the gym, 10 since I started the weight loss side.

Apparently I had a lot to learn myself, about weight loss and weight gain, and maybe even common sense when it comes right down to it.  But the most important thing that I've learned (Thank you Physix and Shannon) is that weight loss is only about calorie intake.  It doesn't matter where the calories come from, if you go beyond a certain point, you will gain, if you eat less than you burn, you lose.  Simple, but not easy.  My husband lost 60 pounds when he went on the weight loss program.  Now of course, he has kept it off for 6 months so his payment went way down.  He looks good and he feels awesome and healthy.  (Thanks again Physix and Shannon!)  So, it's like I'm climbing a mountain and I'm on a ledge viewing the summit.






But hey, it's been a freakin' long trek and I'm tired. And the view is really pretty from here and maybe I should just be happy with the accomplishments I've already reached and...and...and. yada yada yada. If I show no progress when trying to reach a goal,  I have no one else to blame or hold responsible except myself.

Friends and acquaintances have told me how great I look, you don't need to lose any more they say, and on and on. It makes it a little difficult, since vanity over health is a motivator, because I really like how I look now.  Even more so, yep, I'll admit,  I like how I feel.  I'm stronger than a lot of people who are 40 years younger than me, and I'm relatively flexible with a sense of balance.  But hey, all it takes is a few nods to my penchant, and I'm back at my 10 year old self, with that horrible beige dress, feeling panicky and separated from my own body.  I'd be back feeling like my body has taken over and I'm going to disappear in a deluge of "baby fat".

If you are a wise woman of a certain age and you are reading this 'tsking' and shaking your head in sheer pity of my woeful state of mind, if you are a women of a certain age who is happy with herown  self and knows the important things that matter in life really aren't fleshly,  here are my thoughts to you:  Yes, I admire you, yes, a while ago I wanted to be like you, and yes, you're right about a lot.  But I'm not you. I've accepted that I'm not. I've accepted me for me, with all of my spiritual and emotional imperfect blemishes.  I have pretty much learned to accept them instead of fight them these days. And it works for me.  Part of that "working for me" thing is to start each day telling myself that it's a new day and all I have left is 5 pounds.  (on some days it's only 3, so hey, I'm almost there.)

Someday maybe it won't be so important to me, but now it is so ce'est lavie.   Love to you all.