Back In Black - Day 116 (Saturday) & Something About Fatness & Happiness...

In 2012, I learned, probably for the first time in my adult life, what it means to be

FAT 

and

HAPPY.

I learned what it feels like to be

- content enough in my own skin and with my own life,
- fulfilled enough in my pursuits,
- accepting enough of my flaws, and
- embracing enough of my unique beauty,

that while I knew intellectually that I should endeavor to better maintain my body, I was so happy in my soul that I didn't mind being "fat". And I think that's evident as I look back at the posts in this series to date.

The truth is that there are so many reasons we watch our weight that have nothing to do with being healthy, though that is a most excellent reason. Many of them are good reasons in their own right, if approached with a sense of balance, and they mostly have to do with vanity of some sort.

Well, they do for me anyway.

And I wasted plenty of life, into my 30s actually, drinking the Kool-Aid that vanity of any sort is some kind of crime against intellect and inner beauty. Thank Goddess I discovered that it's much more liberating to acknowledge and accept that some days you really do give a fuck how you look, that there's nothing wrong with wanting to be pretty, and that you generally don't lose any capacity for intelligence or human decency on those days, either...

But for the most part, unlike any year of my life before it, 2012 left almost nothing to be desired, and I reveled every day in doing exactly whatever felt good and right in the moment. Even those moments in which I chose to putz around on the couch, share air and space with The Man, and do nothing particularly productive, when I could have gone for a run instead, felt right. As did the moments when I chose to sit at the keyboard and write a post or a recipe instead of practicing yoga. And the moments when I drank that extra glass of wine after dinner when I didn't need the extra calories because I was basking in a warm, fuzzy, red wine buzz...

But all things have their season.

And after a year of all that basking and reveling, as I'm soon approaching 40, it's starting to feel right to give a little more of a fuck about the jiggling of the squish. To choose tight buns over loose pours. To regain a belly that looks closer to a cutting board than a muffin top...

Because in the course of a life, you can cycle through all the permutations of BMI ranges and degrees of happiness.

So while 2012 was deliciously fat and happy, I think I'll cook up some

THIN

and

HAPPY

for 2013.

Do wish my atrophied muscles luck. :)

BREAKFAST

was half a PB&J.

LUNCH

was a long overdue haircut...

...and a most yummydelicious lunch of cha gio, bun bo hue, and soursop smoothie at Hien Vuong in Little Saigon.

DINNER

was a lazy woman's mashup of avocado with salsa verde, a couple of slices of roast turkey breast, a handful of roasted almonds, and a piece of something like Almond Roca but much better whose name I don't recall.

EXERCISE

Have we already established that leisurely strolling around retail establishments is not exercise? Because if we have, then I didn't.

Off to brew more coffee and give some thought to breakfast.

shinae