Mary, started talking about Operation Beautiful on her blog.

Molly ran with the idea, and posted too.

And…I had to chime in.

By day, I’m a public school English teacher (and art student, getting an add-on certification as an art teacher). I teach in South Carolina where I’ve had students who tip the scales at 300+ pounds. I’ve also had skinny kids in my room who whine because the seats are too hard for their bony bodies. Most of my life, my weight was in check and I wore a size 12. For a while in college, when I thought I’d join the Marines as an officer (and go to OCS), I got down to a size 6 with 14% body fat, 24 inch waist and was quite strong. But I weighed 132 lbs and the Marines said I was “too fat” even with those other stats. I decided to not become a Marine because I knew I was as healthy and beautiful as I’d ever been and no woman needed to be smaller for any job. (Don’t get me started on models.)

Fast forward 15 years….

At holiday time two years ago, two of my husband’s cousins were talking about their pregnancies, due dates and such, and a third cousin looked at me and said, “When are you due?” I stammered and said, “I…I’m not.” The whole truth is I had a tumor and a hysterectomy to save my life (because I’d begin to hemorrhage whenever I had my cycle) and the weight was from stuffing down all those painful emotions. So, not only did it hurt because she was saying I was fat, but it broke my heart because I can never have children and I’d like nothing better than to have a baby that looks just like my wonderful husband, but I was too upset to tell anyone the whole truth at the time.

Now…

Yes, I’m thinner, stronger and healthier than I was two years ago, and please, I know you may be well-meaning, but don’t tell me about adoption. Our finances can’t handle it right now..and maybe working with kids full-time is all the mothering I need to do. I mean, I’ve already helped raise 1000+ children in my lifetime through my example as a classroom teacher. That may be enough.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago while I was teaching summer school. We talked about nutrition one day (due to childhood obesity rates) and I showed the kids my Bodybugg and we discussed strength. Later that week, we went on a tour of a local college and had to walk about a third of a mile up hill from one building to the next. The kids were winded. I’ve been doing the Couch-to5k, so I was strong enough to do it without panting. One girl looked at me and said, “How many calories are we burning?” I told her I could only tell the total I’d burned for the day and shared the number with her. She asked, “How long are you going to wear that thing?” I said, “Until I’m as skinny as you are.” Now, this girl is waaay too tiny, probably a size zero, but she’s only 13 so she’s not fully into her adult shape yet, and I know I don’t truly want to be her size. I was trying to help her feel better because she couldn’t keep up with me or the other kids. She immediately said, “Mrs. Edwards, don’t do that. You need to look healthy. I rather look like you with a curve to my body. You can get smaller, just don’t get skinny. You look better than I do.” I laughed and said, “Okay, but keep checking in on me to keep me honest. I’m not giving up easy.” She smiled and went about her conversation and caught up with her peers.

So, that said, I am strong. I am beautiful inside, and one day soon my outside will (again) match my inside and leave no doubt that I’m a holistically fit woman. That’s also why I’m earning my certification as a holistic fitness coach. (I’m already a motivational speaker, storyteller, Astanga yoga and sport Pilates teacher.) I know the more balance I have in my life, the more I can help others achieve the same and one day, I will not see 300 lb or 80 lb teenagers in my classroom who can’t walk 1/3 of a mile across a college campus because they’ll know how to be healthy too.

So…what is most beautiful about me? My hopes and my heart. How can you tell? I hope it is clearly evident every time I smile or laugh and my eyes disappear because my cheeks are in the way.

Tell me: What’s beautiful about you?

Run, Forrest, Run!

You might recall that last fall I began dancing for the first time in decades and searched for a teacher to give me ballet lessons. I tried every dance studio in town and NO ONE had a class for beginner adults that I could be part of. The closest was a ballet school that works with people aiming for professional careers, but I honestly was too intimidated to even try with them, so I decided if I got into good enough shape I’d join a class. Then, I did Pilates when I “had time” (or so I thought) and continued with my art studies (to add on a certification as an art teacher, grades k-12) and didn’t do much else. That is, until June.

I had a rude awakening in June. It went like this:

• Teaching job was cut due to reduction in force.
• When the school year ended, I sat on my butt at my computer at home and did scholarly things and generally screwed around.
• Then, I weighed myself and I had put on 10 lbs in a month!
• After I got done hyperventilating, I decided it was time to do something serious about my exercise routine.
• I bought a Bodybugg to track my activity, steps taken and calories burned.
• Watched every episode of Losing It with Jillian (Michaels), joined a weight loss forum, and got moving.
• Then, someone on the forum mentioned Couch-to-5k, a running program. I checked it out here and decided I’d try it.
• I’m now half-way through week 5, largely in thanks to Robert’s podcasts. I’ve lost that pesky 10 lbs plus four more, got offered part of my old job back (working half-time), completed two more classes at school for art and business, and yesterday….
• I registered to race in my first 5k on October 30th.

So, I’m still not in toe shoes, but let me tell you, I never, ever once in my life considered myself a runner, not even in 1991 when I thought I was going to join the Marines and knew I’d have to run for boot camp. I’m not sure that I have ever run three miles in my life, but as of today, I can run 8 minutes, walk for five, and run 8 more minutes, covering 2.5 miles in half of an hour. Friday I’ll do my first 20 minute run and when I finish, you’ll hear me cheer all the way from Greenville, SC!

I’m a decorator. Not professionally, but that may come. Every place I’ve ever lived, from the shed-like cottage in MT that was too narrow to have a bathroom door (a curtain was hung instead) to our 1970s split level and our current 1950s mill house, I’ve tried to make cozy. In one of our apartments it was a 30 sq ft walk-in closet with a bed desk, a fold up book case, a table lamp and plenty of cushion for me. Usually I’ve ended up paying people to do the things I couldn’t (electrical and plumbing) but I’ve done so many renovations that I’ve joked with my husband that he needs a bumper sticker that says, “My wife is a Jewish carpenter,” to go the all the other bible belt stickers we see on vehicles daily. I never thought this crave to make a space mine was odd, but instead sought kinship in finding other creatives who’ve done the same.

This New York Times story is a great example of finding and making a space of your own.

We have a fairly large tin shed (roof and siding) in the back yard that I’ve been aching to re-model. Maybe this will be my next project and like Ms. Foster, I’ll have a little sleeping loft to hide out in when I need my inspirational dream time or maybe I’ll take some design cues form Alton Greenhouses, like the picture above. Either way, I could make it mine…and invite hubby for visits.

What would a space of your own look like? Where would it be? What would you do there? Who would you invite to visit (if anyone at all)?

Enjoy the dream.

My porch looks like this right now.

Ever have a day when you hit an invisible wall and your inner voice says, “Stop. You can’t do any more. You’re killing yourself and there’s got to be a better way”? I’m there today. I spent a good while still trying to scrape old adhesive off the cement front porch where a carpet used to be. Then, as I still there all red-faced and dripping with sweat, a plumber told me I don’t have hot water because I have 30 ft of copper pipe and I just need to waste 30 gallons of water before the hot will reach the faucet…or I can pay $900 for a hot water-on-demand system. I paid the $60 service fee (half of a day’s wages for a 20 minute visit) and took a lukewarm shower because I refuse to waste 30 gallons to wait for the hot water to reach the spigot. Feeling a bit burned out and sorry for myself I started to slip into Eeyore mode, but this video made it a little better.

When you’re too tired, try to give yourself a break.

-Mel.

Topiary Lion

I’m all for outsider art. Heck, Junebug is a great little film about one dealer on a quest to represent an outsider and bring his work to the forefront, but I have to wonder if the average Joe or Jill has what it takes to knock the socks off of an art dealer.

I know David Gerbstadt, whose work make my socks fly, isn’t really an outsider because he has some training, and makes a steady income selling his work for $1 per piece (no kidding).

I have spent some time wondering where I fit in the art world and what my niche is. Anything is possible. Right? Then I look at displays like this and wonder, how much training did these artists have to perfect their craft, and is there a topiary school somewhere? I am a fully-untrained artist…for now…who has done my share of fiber arts/needlework arts, which I suppose makes me an outsider artist. However, I’m branching out and trying art without training. I’ve recently started a Photobucket album of my work and completed a Photo I and art history class and I will take my first 2-D design and drawing class this fall. Until then, I’m going to see if there really are schools for floral sculptures.

Today, for some unknown reason, a 9th grade male student sang that song about me when I said I was coming to assist him. The song brought me back to my elementary school days when we used to sing as teachers tried to control our behavior before assemblies. We’d often crackle through “This Land is Your Land,” “He’s Got the Whole World In His Hands” and “Michael Row the Boat Ashore.” (I’m still not sure why Mike’s rowing what such a hallelujah moment and set to song…and if you know, please enlighten me…but I digress.) The point is, I’m not sure most kids know these folk songs. I’m guessing someone well-meaning adult decided these songs were too political or religious to sing in school, but I can’t help yearn to belt out “Red River Valley,” “Polly Wolly Doodle” or “If I Had a Hammer.” It could because as I’ve noted before Pete Seeger’s songs are in my soul. (He was my first crush based upon a picture of him on an album and his voice coming from my 33 rpm LP.) I can’t help but wonder, how long Pete will still be with us and if our eventual loss of his body on earth will also lead to dust covering his life’s work. Not if I can help it, my friends. Not while I can still crackle out a tune or two. Wait for my songs…his songs, our songs…as I come around the mountain.

Creative Journal - Acrylic on Paper

Okay, so I’ve been away…but not in a foreign land, or planet, not really. I took November off from my normal routine and I wrote a draft of a novel for NaNoWriMo. That is, National Novel Writing Month brought to the world by Chris Baty, further proof to the universe that one man’s quirky passion can light a firestorm of creativity.

The good news is I finished. A Winner in NaNo is one who writes at least 50,000 words in a month. I capped at 55,553 or something like that. I’m still begging my closest friends and loved ones to read it, because I think it can be the groundwork for something publishable one day. However, I hold no illusions of life after publication. I’m only slightly bitter about the knowitall “I’ve been published, who are you, lowly blogger” tone I’ve heard from time to time. I truly believe those with real talent are far more humble than that.

Enough about writing, and on to my whole truth. I have stopped dancing. I never found a dance teacher. I have a day job that sucks away too many hours for too little of what I need most. Sure money and recognition would be fab, but what I really need is… well, let’s say it doesn’t exist in the same galaxy as my day job. So, I’m going in…my own mind and spirit, that is. I’ve started knitting again, painted a background for a studio painting, and begun a creative journal/workbook. Maybe when my mind and heart dance again, my feet will too.

My friend Dawn Clare spoke with  me recently and told me I needed to maximize my income by aligning my bliss with my daily life. In other words, if I hit the lottery tomorrow, it isn’t a surprise I’d live differently. If aliens abducted me and gave me choice to either die or live a whole new life in a new place of my dreams, I would make more than a few changes (but either way, I’d miss my loved ones very much in my new celestial home).

The day hubby and I wed he wore a film T-shirt under his dress shirt. It was “The Day the Earth Stood Still.” The alien wasn’t really scary. In fact, he was pretty benign by today’s standards. I can’t help but wonder if the evil monsters in my life would be negated and neutralized into nothingness if I simply switched gears. I’m pretty sure I’d start to dance (and sing) again if I did something I always wanted instead of playing it safe and working a day job that isn’t exactly heaven on earth. Safe sucks. Big time.

At the beginning of September, Patricia Moreno, of IntenSati/Sati Life put up a challenge to readers of her blog to try to lose that “last 10 lbs” that many say they want to lose. I signed up, knowing I have certainly more than that I’d like to release from my body. Well, today was my weigh-in for the month, and I didn’t make it. I did remove 5 lbs, though. I admit without her challenge, I probably would have said, “Oh, Mel, don’t worry about the pounds, just keep dancing, working and you’ll get there someday.” However, for me, the truth is someday never comes. I have four file cabinet drawers full of events gone-by or ones to spend time on “later” and the truth is, 90% of what is in there needs just just GO! Tonight I recycled at least a ream of paper, and I let those papers I’ve been hanging on to “just in case” exit my life so I’ll have room and energy to focus on what I desire now.

My life road map leads in many directions, but the destinations I reach are all because I made a conscious choice and took the path to get there. This past month I didn’t find a dance teacher, but I bought several dance videos and shoes and began my practice. That means I’m still on the path and plan to reach my destination. I removed 5 lbs of my body weight and I earned my Spencer Pilates instructor certification, and those goals are in line with learning to dance as being a healthy weight and having a strong core are essential for dancers. I’m clear that my intention, combined with right action and positive self-expectation will get me to my destination. So, dear friends, Where will your road map lead you this month?

I’m finding my adult mind has all kinds of preconceptions about what I can and cannot do with my body. I’m fascinated with this because I don’t have the same mental road blocks about learning or emotions. I’ve never said to myself, “Oh, I can’t learn that,” or “I could never learn to love ….” but regularly my inner Oscar the Grouch pipes up and says, “Well, of course he can do that! He’s built that way,” or “She’s skinny, and moving 100 lbs is far less work.” These are my excuses, my hurdles to overcome.

Action Step

We have a new addition to our family. We rescued a bunny that some one “set free” to fend for herself in a neighborhood full of dogs. We named her Olive, after Kristin Chenowith’s character Olive Snook in “Pushing Daisies,” because she’s spunky, sweet, adoring and has dark eyes that look like shiny black olives (and yes, that’s her fuzzy little face above this post). So, my solution is whenever I begin letting Oscar grumble in, I stop and think of Olive. Nothing stops her creativity, energy and verve. She’s all that is perfect and wonderful about life. She pirouettes, slides across the floor, stumbles, popcorns in the air and keeps on hopping until she’s conked out from exhaustion. Then, I remind myself, I can be Olive or Oscar, and as much as I have a soft spot for the grungy crumudgeon, I rather be like her.

Coming Soon!

There is one more thing I do to silence Oscar, I keep seeking new ways to be active and creative that match who I am now, so I can be who I desire to be in the future, and having fun along the way. Next Thursday I’ll be trying my first NIA Technique class. I’ll keep you posted.

Today’s post is hyper-brief (for me at least). Wanted to say, my dancing shoes aren’t collecting dust, but I am doing lots of Pilates to help build my core to make all the dancing easier. It is helping, and I lost another pound. No ballet teacher yet, so I’m still going solo (with my NY City Ballet dvds). It’ll all work out in the end. I’m sure. Thanks for checking in on me!