Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life. Well, valuable, but small. And sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it or because I haven’t been brave? – Kathleen Kelly from You’ve Got Mail.

I believe I have settled a lot of times because I haven’t been brave. Something I discovered about myself this summer is that I am a scaredy cat of epic proportions. I have a yellow streak a mile long. I am a coward. I am the lion from the wizard of Oz. I did not realize this until recently. I was stressed. Having difficulty making decisions or moving forward or getting things done and was just wondering why. I started listening to myself – my explanations and excuses and justifications and it was there I uncovered the fear. This isn’t just something new. I realize I have functioned out of fear for decades. And I let others project their fears on me as well until I am literally running scared. Fear paralyzes. I hear myself saying self protecting things and making self protective justifications. Maybe I need to quit listening to myself?

And yet I have been brave on so many fronts as well because I didn’t have a choice. It was muster up some courage or drown. I have been uncharacteristically brave at times. Even surprised myself. So I can be brave when there is no other choice. I can do all things through Christ. He is my strength when I am weak. I know this. And yet, it seems, fear is crouching on my doorstep. Wait a minute, where have I heard that before?

It may not be the spirit of fear but certainly a lack of courage. Fear seems to be my default. I want faith to be my default. ‘She is clothed with strength and dignity and can laugh at the days to come.’ I want that to be true of me. But at times that kind of courage feels so elusive. So unattainable.

So what’s an aspiring Proverbs 31 woman supposed to do? What am I so afraid of? Are these fears rationale or not? There are some things in this world that are definitely scary alright. But the Lord keeps reminding us in His word not to fear. He also reminds us that worrying (just another manifestation of fear) is the most useless activity on the planet. He warns us about worrying our prayers which renders them not really prayers but just another way to worry. He also promised to never leave or forsake us and to be our defender. He is our strength when we are weak. He is our truth in a planet full of lies. Fear of the Lord is the only beneficial fear. I should not fear what man can do to me because my God is greater.

I definitely worry about about silly daily things because that’s the human condition. But I don’t need to surrender to the human condition. Jesus died on the cross so I could be free from all that. I need to trust the one That upholds me with his righteous right hand.

What are these fears I’m referring to? Fear of the unknown. What’s going to become of me? Fear of suffering. No one invites suffering even though we must share in Christ’s suffering. Fear of being abandoned. God will never leave or forsake me. Fear of persecution. We must not fear what man can do to us. Fear of not being valuable to anyone. I am a daughter of the Almighty and He cherishes me. Fear of watching loves ones suffer. His plans for us are not to harm us but to prosper us and give us a future and a hope.

Corrie Ten Boom said ‘never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God” she also said “worrying doesn’t empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength.

So my resolve is to try to do something that scares me every day. Sometimes that might be as simple as ‘spend time encouraging myself in the Lord’ when I have a million things on my todo list and to take time for this will mean not finishing my list. Calling that person and encouraging them even if I don’t have all the answers and cures. Deviating from my schedule to follow the Lords promptings. Make that doctors appointment when you suspect something is amiss. Say what needs to be said and not worry about what people will think of me. Leave the house without makeup. Yes folks… that’s real. Let people see the real me. Take that risk while holding the Lords hand. Go for that walk even though you don’t feel like it. Put on the full armour of God and march into battle and leave the results with Him. Try something new. Go to bed when your adult kids are at a Coldplay concert in Edmonton and not getting home until 4:00 am. Seriously… going to bed is the brave thing to do. True confessions: i did not do the brave thing. Next time!

I was pondering this in my heart this morning as I was going through the dreaded routine of cleaning. I love a clean house and I used to quite love cleaning because, well, it gave me a clean house. But lately, it seems like a drudgery. There are so many more fun things to occupy my time. I’d rather be writing, or painting, or cooking and have a cleaning lady. But alas, I’m her. I’m her because I have the time and I don’t have to funds to hire someone else. But I digress….this is not what I was thinking about.

What I was thinking about was how many people I have told that I’m going back on the Whole 30 because I felt great while I was on it and I even lost 8 pounds. I didn’t do it to lose weight but as you reset and get healthy and eliminate cravings for poisonous food you automatically lose weight because your body is healing itself and let’s face it, overweight is a disease. 8 pounds is insignificant when, in your head (or at weight watchers) the goal was actually 40. Then again, 8 pounds is 8 pounds! Was losing 40 pounds even sustainable for me? Obviously not. At WW we all watched everyone’s weight. Sometimes we watched it go up. I quit when I realized I was going in the wrong direction. It works if you work it. But clearly my focus was elsewhere.

But Whole 30….I thought it was great and definitely effective AND healthy. And I thoroughly enjoyed it because I set aside 30 days to focus on nothing else but that really. There is no doubt in my mind that eating food as medicine and not stuffing my pie hole (I’m eating a piece of homemade apple pie as I type this) with poisonous addictive food is far better for me. But that took concentration and resolve and time and motivation which I am very often in short supply of. So I’m not sure I’m going to actually do Whole 30 again. At least not the rigid by-the-book Whole 30. Maybe a more realistic and reasonable Whole rest-of-my-life. Somebody suggested trying out the Half 60 but I’ve done that often without even knowing it. I think I’ll aim for continuous improvement.

For many weary strugglers, weight is more about health than image. But for me it’s been bit of both. I’ve done the Daniel Plan and the Tosca Reena clean eating plan (which did work BTW). I’ve done cleanses and fasts. I’ve worked my brains out (because clearly it wasn’t ‘my ass off’) at the gym and wrecked my knees and hips jogging. I’ve done the jube jube and popcorn diet (I made that one up myself). I’ve even been on the stress diet – by far the most effective but I don’t recommend it. Not worth it. When life gets better the weight comes back anyway. I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time wishing I was littler. Imagining what it would feel like to put my hands on my hips and feel nothing but bone. And a thigh gap? I’m rolling on the floor doubled up in fits of laughter at this very moment. Who invented that standard that’s driving our adolescent girls into therapy? And worse.

I’ve lost and gained the same 25-40 pounds 6 times in the last 30 years. Lucky for me I carry my weight well. Non experts usually would never guess my actual weight. Big bones is always a popular comment. Well, not really popular with me but still very often used. Ok so I won’t be prone to osteoporosis then. I have been struggling with being too heavy all of my adult life. Well not all, I guess ever since my first pregnancy and that baby is now 30 years old. I’ve always felt I was overweight even when I wasn’t. I look back now and regret the time I spent obsessing about it. But the world and its judges put so much pressure on women to be a certain size and I’m afraid I drank the KoolAid.  I mean let’s get serious, the last time I was a size 8 I actually WAS 8. At size 10 people wonder if I’m anorexic. I just have a heftier build. What can I say? Built for endurance not for speed. Plus the extra fat stretches out the wrinkles so that’s a bonus.

I’ve decided I am tired of trying to fit into the mold and 2008’s jeans and 1981’s bathing suit or even my wedding dress, which now fits my right thigh, by the way. It’s such an all encompassing battle and ain’t nobody got time for dat.

I’m thinking maybe it’s time to just let go of these unrealistic expectations I put on myself and quit managing my image and just enjoy life to the full each day. I know I will suffer the consequences of poor food choices and lack of exercise if I just throw all caution to the wind, so I’ll just try to be prudent and wise and give up on the obsessing. God cares if we are healthy but he doesn’t care if we are supermodel thin. Besides, I’m 60. That doesn’t mean I should let myself go but I think I finally have the maturity to realize there is so much more to life than thin. Hello? There are just so many more important and expedient issues and concerns to focus on in this life. I don’t really have the time to be totally absorbed about my weight and image AKA myself.  And who really cares anyway? I always think people are looking at me and judging me when really they are too consumed with their own insecurities to even notice what’s going on with me.

Sure I can feel my flesh jiggle as I walk. I know I’m only fooling myself if I think my long hair is camouflaging my double chin. Nobody is going to get a chance to place wide load signs on my butt because I carefully and strategically keep it covered. I’m the quintessential butt coverer, in every way. I was overjoyed when they invented tall boots with neoprene over the calf so I could wear them without cutting off my circulation.

In more recent years, doctors (my new hero… Dr. Oz) and fitness folks have emphasized lifestyle change. Rather than a time limited, food eliminating or combining experiment with the thin promise of incredible (and temporary) weight loss by next Tuesday, we are being encouraged to actually change our lifestyle on a daily, lifelong basis. I’ve gained much knowledge from reading (Dr. Mark Hyman) and trying (Whole 30) and this will be the basis for my evolving lifestyle. I will endeavor to make exercise and good eating part of my life – not a 30 day experiment that consumes my entire soul.  It’s slower but wiser and in the end more successful. More peaceful. Less anxious. More realistic. Less frustrating. More forgiving. Less demoralizing. More sensible. More, more, more. Less failure. Less, less, less.

All this to say… I’m giving up. I’m letting go.  I’m getting off the treadmill, so to speak. I’m setting myself free. Free to be me. Free to not meet the worlds unrealistic standards of perfection. Free to not let the number on the scale define my worth. I’ll still eat wisely 80% of the time but I’m going to enjoy my 20% of indulgence. I’ll still try to workout regularly because I know how good it is for me but I’m not going to beat myself up because I missed a workout because I was tired or needed to meet a friend for coffee.  Its life.  I actually quite enjoy physical activity which is a blessing since I love to eat and I know that it makes me feel so good even though it can hurt so bad. But I have more important and more expedient real life issues to focus on. My November TO DO list will not have ‘lose 25 pounds by Christmas’ on it anymore.

How many stories have you heard about women that long to conceive and once they either adopted and/or stopped stressing and worrying about it ….. it happened. Or those women desperately looking for love in all the wrong places and when they finally let go, love found them? At 60, weight loss is not on my radar anymore. Health is.

I said I’d keep you posted. My interview for this morning was cancelled …. at 9:30 last night. Lucky for me, I hadn’t gone to bed already and subsequently woken up early and killed myself to get ready to go downtown with Mike at 6:30am and not find out until I was downtown on this chilly, rainy day, all dressed up that I had absolutely no where to go. And by get ready, I mean try on ten outfits until I found one that was professional but not threatening. Classy but not provocative. Comfortable but not slobbish. Do my hair so no grey strays peeked through. Do make up so I looked younger and brighter than I feel. However, I had already spent a couple of hours researching the right answers to all the behavioural and circumstantial questions I was going to be asked and somehow connect them to the job description I was given and then- I got the email. This particular phenomenon had never happened to me before. Not sure what it all means yet.

So I decided to live in my own bubble today. I slept in … well stayed in bed… as I listened to the rain pelting the roof of our deck right outside our bedroom window. I pulled the warm covers closer around me and took in the softness of the pillows and cozyness of the bed. Mother Nature finally dragged me out of my cacoon and the iciness of the ceramic tiled floor I had to walk over wrecked my little moment in time. I made myself a leisurely breakfast and then repeatedly opened the pantry door to peruse the organized cleanliness that now exists due to my spontaneous urge to haul everything out of it last night and put the good stuff back, switching the location of absolutely everything so no one will be able to find anything anymore. In my experience, kids and husbands can’t seem to find most things on the best of days…at least now they have a legitimate excuse. I think it was pre-interview jitters. I needed to do something distracting.

I am writing this as I sit in front of my studio computer watching ‘You’ve got Mail’ and ‘Sleepless in Seattle’…listening to all the great music of their sound tracks, munching on taco chips and real cheese, still in my pyjamas, browsing Pinterest, house to myself… it’s like I’m in heaven. Bliss. Nobody can make me forget reality like Meg and Tom, unless of course it’s Steve Martin and Dianne Keaton. I’m feeling a slight bit guilty as everyone else in the family is out working but not THAT guilty. I mean, hey, if I hadn’t been laid off I’d still be getting up every morning and be at work myself and loving it. Thriving. Being at home was not my choice. However, enjoying being at home is.

When I operate in my bubble it’s a lot like Maxwell Smarts dome of silence. I hear nothing just the beat of my own heart. In my bubble there is nothing evil or horrendous going on in the world. There are no hurricanes or floods, no questionable political leaders, no people dying of anything, no financial stresses, no depression, no homelessness, no terrorism, no human trafficking ….just beautiful, comforting, feel good thoughts and feelings. Only good vibes. In my bubble there is hope and healing. There is music and truth (the Word). There is prayer and laughter. There is peace and joy. It is well with my soul. The pollution of the world can’t get in. Maybe that’s why I love my bubble so much.

But I also know I have a responsibility to fight for peace, freedom and justice for those that can’t fight for themselves. I have a responsibility to encourage, support and serve others. I must leave my comfort zone and spread love, kindness, and generosity. So I can’t spend too much time in my bubble. But my bubble is a wonderful reprieve where news is not watched, radio is not on, newspapers not read, phones not answered and fake internet news not grabbing my attention. I think I’ll spend the night in my bubble. I have to go out in the world tomorrow so I’ll have to burst it then.

Oh yes, I have to phone the HR gal from the cancelled interview company tomorrow morning so that could go either way. But I’m not going to think about that tonite. I’ll think about that tomorrow, after all, tomorrow is another day.

Wow….two interviews this week. What is this all about? How did this even happen? I was just minding my own business and not even looking for a job really.  I was planning on retiring in poverty and obscurity. Now I have to put the high heels back on and forge ahead. I was loving the Nikes and my walks. Loving sitting on on my beautiful deck reading and writing. Loving spending hours in my kitchen cooking and listening to my new found play lists on the 8tracks app. But such is life, we do what we have to.