Soft heart

It’s now been two weeks since I’ve given up calorie counting, weighing myself and actively consuming myself with loosing weight.

I have NO idea how much I weigh…and it doesn’t matter to me as much anymore. I can still feel the mental chatter in my mind, but it’s getting easier. It’s getting easier to silence, to acknowledge and not entertain. It’s less consuming.

Of course I’ve sat and over-eaten. Had too many ciders. What is happening is a quiet reflection upon my motivations, choices and decisions to ignore how my body was actually feeling.

my heart is softening.

I was in church yesterday and knew that my heart was softening. I was present and I felt alive. I felt alive in my own moment of connection with something greater than myself..and yet ironically myself. My heart. My desires. My own sense of internal peace.

Life becomes a hell of a lot easier to manage, enjoy, and circumvent when we are less consumed with external markers of satisfaction. There’s a larger sense of purpose, that I’ve discovered, and I think it has made me a better girlfriend, nurse, and human being.

I’ve realised that I’m more than my constant hashing of weight-loss struggle, a one-time success story, someone who was oppressed in a former relationship. I’m more than weight.

I smile more. I laugh more. I eat with more attention and savouring. I workout and am less consumed with getting skinny…and more concerned with how long I can hold my plank and how grateful I am with my own strength that I’ve worked my ass off for the past 10 years.

It requires stopping at times. Sitting in a hammock and realising that the act of softening your heart, letting go of the insane amount of pressure we put on ourselves to get stuff done and meeting other’s expectations is the nectar of life.