full heart feelings

Today was a great day.  It started out right with me knowing I’d be having a pretty easy day at my internship.  Plus, it was sunny, and I didn’t start til 9. So after sleeping in and eating a delicious breakfast, I headed out the door.

I’m in my long-term care rotation.  I love the people I work with, but there is a reason that this isn’t everyone’s favorite rotation.  For the sake of not being eternally linked to an opinion on the issue, I will refrain from sharing in writing – though I would at any point in time be more than willing to tell you about it.

Anyway…

At morning meeting, it came up that one of the residents who was on a no-added-salt diet was having some troubles with fluid retention and was found to be eating fries the day before.  So… My preceptor of course said she would do a little sodium education which, of course, fell to me.  I was kind of dreading it and put it off as long as possible.

Now is where the story gets good and my heart swells just thinking about it…

So I went into his room with my handout on sodium, introduced myself and the “so I hear you’re having some trouble with retaining some fluid…”  We talked salt for a bit.  I was wrapping up and told him that if he had any more questions the RD was always available, and that I would be done on Friday.  One thing I’ve learned is that these people LOVE to hear about your life.  So of course it followed that I would be done with school in 3 weeks and driving back to…. Washington?!? That always gets ‘em interested.  So after explaining that no, I didn’t have a job, he went into this long story about the “first recession” aka Great Depression, and he’s telling me about jobs and working and somewhere in there he says “farm.”

Let me preface this.  A lot of elderly people mention “the farm” when I talk with them.  I usually try to get them to say a bit more about it.  Just the other day I had a woman tell me all about pig lard and how a pound really wasn’t that much for this-and-that recipe she was listing off – and for a household of people.  My response of “Oh, I agree” is probably not approved by the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics – but hey – I’m just an intern (my excuse for anything “unorthodox”).  Anyway, when I mention farming to these people, they usually don’t engage me in a conversation about my farming.  They brush me off a bit when I try to relate to their experiences, tell me something else about their farm (usually pigs or dairy or corn…) and that ends it.  Kind of like I don’t really understand.  Something was different today though.

So I prod.  “Oh, you farmed?” I say. “What did you grow?”  Vegetables and onions, he responds.  Now I’m VERY interested.  “On how many acres?” I ask.  10-20.  Hmmm… this just might be my kind of guy.  So he tells me about the service and how he returned and farmed his father’s land for awhile and how his mortgage was $15 a month and how he sold it only after about 10 years or so.  He grins with squinty eyes just like mine – he can tell I know.  We bond.  Me in slacks and him in his wheelchair.  Then I push it one step farther… I knew there was a connection.  “You must have used a cultivating tractor,” I say.  Oh yeah – this thing his cousin jimmy rigged that they pushed.  And here it comes…… He says:  Then… in 1951… we drove down to Florida.  [Insert:  Me with BIG eyes, taking a sharp breath, fully knowing that the model G was made from 1948-1955.  My hand goes to my heart but in a "keep talking, I think I know what you're going to say" kind of way.  - Yes.  It was very dramatic]  He says, we bought an Allis-Chalmers [my eyes get bigger if its possible] Model G.  I throw my head back in a “you’re KIDDING!” type of reaction, my foot may stomp the floor, and I exclaim “that is my FAVORITE tractor.”  He grins that great smile with the squinty eyes.  He shakes his head in disbelief.  He can’t believe it and neither can I.  He says, you know it?  I say, “Know it? That’s what we use!”  We both just grin some more. We both shake our heads again.

So we talk for 45 minutes about implements and cultivation. About the PTO and how the power is measly and about the duster he rigged for the cauliflower.  You ever grow cauliflower?  he asked.  “Oh yeah!” I say.  Its hard work, he responds.  We both just nod.  We talked about Cubs and how parts are easier to find, but that the tractor isn’t really all that much more powerful.  He tells me about the Cletrac, which I’ve never heard of.  I tell him I want a “G” more than anything else.  I tell him they sell for upwards of $2,200 dollars.  I tell him all the new small farmers are using them and they’re hard to find.  He tells me he paid $500 for his when it was almost new.  We talk about muck farming and the soil in Washington.  We talk and talk.

Eventually I leave.  It was lunch.  We just laughed and grin – neither of us believing the coincidence.

After lunch the nurse stopped my preceptor and I in the hall.  “Mr. W would like to speak with the Dietitian,” she says.  “About anything in particular?” I ask.  “Nope, just said he’d like to talk to her” responds the nurse.  “Probably about tractors” my preceptor says with a funny look.  “Maybe about sodium!… but probably about tractors” I say.

I went back.  “You know, I got to thinking… how long before you leave?” he asks.  “There’s this tractor supply store up in Grant you’ve got to visit.  Its a nice drive and it won’t cost you $100 in gas… maybe $50 though,” he says sheepishly.  He proceeded to give me directions and tell me all about Grant and the acres and acres of muck in the area.  “So lots of people use ‘em over there on the West Coast?” he asks again.  I tell him about organic farming and CSAs and what the young people are doing – about how everyone loves the “G.” We talked some more and I said goodbye.  I want to drive up there and take pictures just to show him, but I don’t think I’ll make it.  Its quite the drive.

I don’t think my heart has felt bigger in a long time.  I hope his family has heard his stories.  I wish they knew what it was like to drive a “G” and work the earth.  So that when he told them his stories they could just grin at one another like we did.  So they could just understand each other.  I’m sure they have squinty eyes to match his and mine too.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll take my pictures of our “G” just to show him its real.

25K? Check.

Here’s to dominating my “Life To Do List.”

Today was the 35th annual River Bank Run, a 25K (15.6 mile) race.

After 2 weeks of not really paying too much attention to training because of life-related stress, I woke up today to run this thing.

My goal was 10 minute miles.  A 2:36:00 race time.

AND….

I did it in 2:32:47!!!  That’s a 9.51 mile.

And that is what a 25K looks like.

(It also looked like me doing fist punches in the air saying “pow, pow, p-cow” in my mind while I ran when I imagined crossing the finish line in record time.  These thoughts were occurring from miles 1-7 while my pace was nearer 9.20-9.40.  After mile 10, I could only think about collapsing on the ground)

expiration date

one of my favorite things about eggnog – if i could only choose one favorite thing – is that just after christmas, when they stop re-stocking and start clearing out, the last batch always expires on Feb. 3.  Its the perfect way to count down to my birthday.  to slowly work through that last half gallon.   a latte here, or maybe an eggnog and rum on a cold night.  and by the time I’m done, its a different season, and its my birthday.

michigan has an expiration date: june 4, 2012.

It has been staring me in the face for quite some time now.  almost as though the date flashes in yellow when I close my eyes.  like a constant reminder my days are numbered.

I made a color-coded paper chain when I had 6 weeks left. I usually don’t like to start counting down that much in advance, but i caved.  My chain now tells me there are 25 days before I leave.  After being here for 10 months and wondering where the time has gone, I know these days will be here and gone before I have a chance to soak them up.

I also started seriously considering the food I had stored up.  My time has an expiration date, but so does my pantry.  All the work storing up and such a short amount of time to eat through it.  It is crazy to think about all the things I won’t buy again before I leave – and all the weight I don’t want to pack.  I think I would save more money on better gas mileage than on packing all my dried beans and baking supplies.  Herbs on the other hand… well, I know better now.  I left behind a pretty sweet herb supply when I moved because I couldn’t be bothered hauling them.  Guess what – they’re expensive.

I’ll likely be drinking bourbon sweet tea pretty regularly.  I mean, you can’t travel with an open container of alcohol, and wasting Maker’s Mark?? well, it can not be done.  I won’t be buying more pasta, legumes, canned/frozen food, shampoo, toothpaste, soap, laundry detergent, or tampons.  Crazy.  Its like tapering for my race.  No more trying to work ahead and push forward, but just coasting until the last day.

But somewhere around week 4.5-5, I was considering staying here.  Its the curse of loving everything, being responsible, and valuing being appreciated.  After mourning the loss of moving back to WA, I started getting excited about staying and about having the opportunity to enjoy and experience all the things I had missed out on being a poor student – and the excitement of farming here for a summer.  But…. it seems that no matter how much the staff at a place wants you to stay and thinks you’re competent to fill a position, at the end of the day, the manager makes the call.  This is ok.  This is probably better.  Because we all know I have guilt about leaving places.  Once I settled even more, it’d be even harder to leave.

So after 2 weeks of emotional torment consisting of gallons of tears, bodily weakness, and emotional eating, and after a much needed visit from my sweetie, I think the plan is, once again, to move back.  Send up your good thoughts for me as I search for a fancy job.  After all these years of dreaming, I’m getting worn down and exhausted by only being able to dream.  But, until then, I find myself laying in bed, reading books about food and farming – dreaming, and finding comfort in the fact that Iknow I will soon be able to do that which I feel called to.

See you soon friends from the coast!  I miss you.  Our time apart expires soon.

 

inventory

(note that this was written during my birthday week in feb.  apologies for the delay)

I can’t believe I keep getting older.

Life isn’t really what I thought it would be when I was young and looking ahead.  Some of it is way better.  Some of it is… well… I hate to say it, but a smidge worse…. errrr…. different?

This has been a week for inventory.  You know, to take stock of my life since I have to seeds to organize or purchase.

The thing that really kicked this all off was waking up on my birthday, my 24th birthday, on an air mattress.  It struck me that this is my reality.  Actually, my air mattress leaks… so… I have it in the dining room where I’ve been rolling around on it with water inside to find the leak.  But don’t worry.  I’m rich in inflatable sleep accommodations.  I’ve got a twin filled and ready to go.  The only thing is that the pump has to be used through a cigarette lighter, naturally.  And it also makes a high pitch whine.  My neighbors love me.  And probably also wonder why I’m running across the street with a mattress. Camping indoors, perhaps?

Just this week I sent my sister a picture of my poop on the phone.  She calls me just to fart, so its allowed.  But yeah, I know its childish.

I “indulge” on the weekends by putting creamer in my coffee and “making” breakfast.

I go to bed before 11

I pretty religiously listen to my favorite pandora station: “elizabeth cotten” (thanks to my sweetie).

I have what my cousin calls the “poverty mentality.”  Basically I take advantage of anything free – mostly food.  You know, stock up when there’s plenty, restrict when there’s little.

I’m still in school, still working for nothing, still picking up babysitting jobs.

I leave the house in snoop-da-loops (moccasins) – you know the kind.  I got that name from my brother-in-law who thinks they look like something snoop dogg would wear.  Speaking of – I’m so broke I missed his concert in GR in January.  I will regret this for all time.

On any given night, you can find me at the kitchen table (on the same computer I’ve had since my senior year of high school – affectionately named Steve) wearing red insulated coveralls and/or a bright blue stretched out crew neck sweatshirt with the pillsbury dough boy on the chest.  It was my mother’s, so I guess I can chalk it up to nostalgia not destitution?

On a more positive note, I run.  In the middle of winter no less.  I feel so strong.  I wish I could call my old PE teacher and tell him.  Just to let him know that even though during testing I could only do 1 peg in the peg board, 10 girl push-ups, and run a 9 minute mile in high school, I can now run at least 9 9-minute miles, no big deal.  Tell him that maybe he should have rethought that B+ he gave me.

I also know what I want, and I’m committed to making it happen.  I can grow my own food, store it up for the winter, and then prepare it in some pretty fantastic ways.  I’m one far cry from the “casserole kid” I used to be.  I’ve found the culture to which I belong.  I will have an everything farm.  I have a to do list for my life, and I’m actually making those things happen.

I have erasable highlighters from a japanese farmer, and a drawer full of office supplies.  I also have a 2012 day and month planner in one.  If I’m ever sad, I just get it out and enjoy its lines and squares.

I’ve lived in an airstream trailour and a yurt.  I can do without electricity, plumbing, and heat.  I can raise and kill a rabbit – and then eat and enjoy it.

I’ve driven across country, moved away from everyone I know, and survived.

I can train a dog – though I couldn’t seem to keep it long-term (hopefully not any indication of what will happen when I have munchkins?)

My family is so good to me, and I have amazing friends.  I felt some pretty big love on my birthday.  Lovely cards and mail, phone calls, and internet well-wishes.  Dinner and drinks and a weekend of being taken care of.  But the best of all, the most beautiful gift, came from my sister.  I love her so much.  So much it is unreal.

When I was younger I started bringing my mom flowers for my birthday.  She thought cut flowers were a waste of money, but its what they stand for that is important.  So I started bringing her flowers on my birthday to say thanks for my life, and I love you.  Kind of an acknowledgment that I wouldn’t be who I am without her.  That she’s the one that’s done all the work and I’m the one that gets to celebrate.  After she passed I would still bring her flowers.  If my birthday wasn’t on the weekend, I would sneak to Lynden or make a quick overnight trip.  But last year I was out of town and couldn’t do it, I shyly asked my sister, and of course she did.  This year, when I decided I’d forget about it, I got the sweetest email and picture at work.

“I made sure Mom got flowers from you this morning.

Happy Birthday Little Sis. Love you lots!

-From Me”

Thanks mama!  For giving me this life to enjoy, and giving me the eyes and perspective to see all the wonderful things about it.  I think you’d be proud of me.

Is it silly to give yourself a little birthday wisdom?  Now that I’m so old, I can do what I want, right?

Picked these up from yoga last week – how appropriate….

None are so old as those who have outlived enthusiasm

-Thoreau

Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.
- Samuel Ullman

The secret of genius is to carry the spirit of the child into old age, which means never losing your enthusiasm.

-  Aldous Huxley

“Wherever you go, go with all your heart.”

     -  Confusious

January Book Report

Today I find myself home from work and avoiding filling my brain with more information.  I’ve actually been quite productive lately.  Not only have I been staying on top of my work, I’ve also had some time to socialize.  And I’m keeping myself accountable to my running goals as well.  I just keep saying to myself, “River Bank Run.  Utter Humiliation.”  That pushes me right on out the door.  I logged 19 miles last week, and ran the farthest I’ve ever gone on Monday – 10.3 miles!

Right now, I’m waiting patiently for pizza dough to rise.  I have 5 seed catalogs here at the table, one of which just arrived today along with a card in the mail from my sweetie.  I’m drinking a hot cup of tea, and looking at a salted chocolate covered caramel just waiting to be enjoyed.  After dinner, I’ll scoot my booty to a free hot yoga class.  When did we ever think we needed so many extras to be happy?

Note: If you are ever offered a tin of chocolates as compensation for your babysitting services, kindly accept one chocolate.  I promise it will last the same amount of time as if you take them all.

So what better opportunity than the present to sit down and write a little something.

I’ve been reading… or I guess I should say, I read a book .

If you remember, one of my continual life goals is to read a book a month.  So I thought I’d start doing a little monthly book report.

Book Report Questions:

Title: A Million Miles in a Thousand Years  Author: Donald Miller

1.  Is your book fiction or nonfiction?

Nonfiction

2.  Can you think of another title?

What to do when you realize your life isn’t very interesting

3.  What is the setting?

Portland, OR – mostly

4.  Who are the main characters?

Donald Miller – and a bunch of other really great crazy people

5.  What is the main idea or purpose of the book?

The author is approached to have his life (and writings from a previous book) made into a movie.  In the process, he realizes his life is a little boring.  After investigating the processes involved in literally writing a good story, he proceeds to figuratively apply them to his life, and has some pretty incredible experiences.

6.  Why is the topic important?

We’re all living, aren’t we?  So we have life stories.

7.  Tell me 3 things you learned from this book

Sometimes we have to intentionally write interesting and meaningful things into our stories.

Writing a good story and proceeding to live it, is hard work

Everyone needs an “inciting incident” to get off their butts

11.  List 3 new words you learned from this book

Nothing to report… appropriately easy to read.

9.  Did this book give you any new ideas about yourself?  Why?

In a lot of ways, it affirmed what I already believe or desire about living a good story.  These thoughts are just all crammed in my dome.

I used to think I was pretty boring.  And in a lot of ways, I think I really was.  And in a lot of ways, I think I still really am.  But I’ve come so far.  I want to have good scenes and exciting experiences.  I want to ‘write’ a meaningful life story, enjoying and working through the process of living it.

It reminds me that what I do is becoming an intrinsic part of who I am.

If nothing else, it reaffirmed my belief that I am capable of so much more than I can even imagine.

10.  Added to my life’s To Do/Dreams list because of this book?

Hike the Incan Trail to Macchu Piccu (even if it is just a tourist trap).

11.  Would you recommend this book to others?  Why?

Looking for some inspiration to get off your butt? Don’t mind a little spirituality (nothing preachy for sure, but definitely the lens through which the author writes) in a book?  Then yeah, by all means, pick it up and read it.  It could change your life, it could just be an interesting reflection.  Either way, its quick, and chances are it will at the very least make you think about what kind of story you’re writing for your life.

12.  Favorite Quotes?

“I used to suddenly realize I was alive and human.  I felt like I was in a movie and had two cameras for eyes, and I’d swivel my head around as though I were moving my cameras atop a tripod.  I even wrote a poem about it and said we were “spirit bound by flesh, held up by bone and trapped in time.”  Back then I wondered why nobody else realized what a crazy experience we were all having.  Back then I’d be lying in bed or walking down a hallway at college, and the realization I was alive would startle me, as though it had come up from behind and slammed two books together.  We get robbed of the glory of life because we aren’t capable of remembering how we got here.  When you are born, you wake slowly to everything.  Your brain doesn’t stop growing until you turn twenty-six, so from birth to twenty-six, God is slowly turning the lights on, and you’re groggy and pointing at things saying circle and blue and car and then sex and job and health care.  The experience is so slow you could easily come to believe life isn’t that big of a deal, that life isn’t staggering.  What I’m saying is I think life is staggering and we’re just used to it.  We all are like spoiled children no longer impressed with the gifts we’re given – it’s just another sunset, just another rainstorm moving in over the mountain, just another child being born, just another funeral.”

“I’ve wondered, though if one of the reasons we fail to acknowledge the brilliance of life is because we don’t want the responsibility inherent in the acknowledgment.  We don’t want to be characters in a story because characters have to move and breathe and face conflict with courage.  And if life isn’t remarkable, then we don’t have to do any of that; we can be unwilling victims rather than grateful participants.”

“My desire to live a better story didn’t motivate me to do anything.  I kept sitting down and writing more and more boring words into my life…. I suppose it was the conversation with Jordan that finally did it, that finally helped me understand how to tell a story with my life.  It worked just like writing a book, you know.  You just sit down and do the work like a faithful plumber… you make a plan and start in on the messy work of making a story…. Here’s the truth about telling stories with your life.  It’s going to sound like a great idea, and you are going to get excited about it, and then when it comes time to do the work, you’re not going to want to do it.”

13.  Other books by the author

Blue like Jazz (read)

Searching for God Knows What (read)

Through Painted Deserts

To Own a Dragon

P.S.  Please forgive me for my tardiness on this post.  In my defense, it was written before the end of the month.

[big] snow

It came!  If finally came!

The snow is here, and I’m pretty pumped about it.

Snow has a remarkable way of making everything seem new and exciting… and simultaneously really inconvenient.

This morning I trudged out to my car to scrape off the 4inches of accumulated snow and brave the roads on my commute to work like a true Michigander.  Unlike a true Michigander, my commute to the hospital is approximately 1.5 miles – on virtually one main street.  Give me a little credit, I did walk once.  That says a lot about a person… especially before 7 in the morning during the winter.  The reason I drove today was because it was supposed to snow all day and pick up wind speed.  And yes, it has been snowing all day.

Snow always charges things with a certain energy.  It makes me want to get out in the brisk air and be a kid again.  It also makes me want to curl up inside with someone I love and drink hot chocolate while watching the fluffy flakes fall (barf. but doesn’t it sound a little dreamy?).

Instead, I just ate way too much dinner and am settling in for an evening of fooling myself into believing I’m actually doing homework.  At least the curtains are open, right?  It might turn into alice makes hot tea and reads in the bath after thoroughly cleaning out the tub.  Tomorrow should be a good day.  I want to start it off with a little snow shoveling and then head inside for a poppy seed bagel with peanut butter and creamer in my coffee.  Yes.  I’ve already decided what I’m going to eat tomorrow.  This is how I function.  The weekends, after all, are my time for fancy things – specifically creamer for my coffee.  And after these things are done and I feel thoroughly calm, homey, and my blood glucose is through the roof, I will maybe go for a run.  I’m not really outfitted appropriately for this weather, but we’ll see.  I want to meet my mile goal for this week.  I am running a 25k in 4 months.  The more I say it, the more it has to be real.

For those that don’t know, I started my clinical rotation last week.  Some say its the culmination of our schooling so far.  I guess its kind of like that.  Its just a lot more detailed and specific work.  This week was my second week at Blodgett hospital. 2 out of 15. The first week was orientation and this week I’ve been on the floors with the dietitian.  I like the work.  I like most work.  Frankly, I just like working.  One of the RDs asked me if I was enjoying myself.  I told her that I enjoy most things that I do and could see myself happy in any area of the field, but that there are just some areas that I find more fulfilling than others.  She said that was a good way to look at things.  I think she’s right.  I think it is.  Today, my preceptor cut my cord and gave me the go ahead to see patients on my own.  There is something about clinical that appeals to the brainy and anal-retentive part of me.  Favorite things about clinicals and Blodgett so far (in no specific order except that the first thing is first):

1.  Free coffee

2.  Number crunching

3.  Charting

4.  Food stipend

5.  Free coffee (did I mention that?)

6.  Talking with patients

7.  Wearing a lab coat

8.  Using my pager

9.  Writing orders

10.  Commute: 7 minute drive or 25 minute walk

11. Abbreviations (and vocabulary)

As an example, this is something I might write (well, not exactly all together, but in different places throughout the note.  I really just wanted to use some of my favorite abbreves… some of which are not “approved” for official charting at my hospital).

Pt is A/O x 3.  Pt admitted for PNA, SOB, and weakness.  Hx of hip fx, CKD, HTN, OA, AFib AFlutter.  MNT consult triggered for low IBW/ht.  Pt states poor PO over 3 mos.  Per pt, likely r/t dysgeusia from meds, trouble C/S, and SOB.  SLP consult 1/13.  VFSS results (P).  Pt compliant to try SF CIB BID.  Will send c L, D and provide HS snack. Rec MVI.  No N/V.  Last BM 1/9.  Docusate and Miralax ordered prn.  Will provide BAP TID.  MNT to follow —– Alice VanderHaak, Dietetic Intern (pager #)

Bam.

My new favorite word is dysgeusia.  Look it up for pronunciation.  Its pretty fabulous.  My favorite abbreviation is VFSS.  (Which, if the previous patient really had VFSS results pending, they would be NPO.  But still… its made up!  That’s the point!)

here’s my happy winter home.  complete with icicles

dearest 2012

First, let me say happy new year:

Happy New Year!

Its sometimes hard for me to get really pumped about the new calendar year.  In some senses January 1 is an arbitrary day.  It doesn’t line up with the academic or agricultural seasons.  I feel more inclined to reflect on the past and hope for the future at the start and close of the calendars that have, to this point, guided my entire existence.

But this year, I do sense a certain charge of energy and opportunity.  Its hard not to when you approach the start of something new, even if nothing new is really starting.  I have this feeling in my bones that its going to be pretty incredible.  There really is no other option.

2011 in review:

I’m beginning to think that years can be compared based on number of places lived.  2011 stacks up pretty well – only three different homes.  A solid effort, but not the winner.  A lot happened this year besides my three moves.  This time last year, Russ and I were living in Redmond and on the first of 2011, I was at Oxbow seeding onions in the Greenhouse.  There was snow on the ground but the sun was so bright that I could work without my coat.  Russ was tearing through the fields tracking the scents of animals and finding old rotten vegetables buried below the snow.  I miss him and his free spirit.

This past year was marked with profound changes.  I fell in love with the “everything farm,” applied and was accepted into my dietetic internship/master’s program, made lifelong friendships, lived off-grid, grew and harvested my own meat, moved to Michigan, said goodbye to Russell, gained a sweetie, and drove coast to coast in my new (to me) car.

And now the year ahead is brimming with potential.  I say with the utmost optimism that I will get a fancy job and cross some things off the fancy list (I’m thinking specifically a new computer, real mattress, food dehydrator, and trip to the dentist), settle into a place I will live in for more than 8 months (maybe after a bit of couch surfing), and start seeing Lesli again.  I’m slowly plugging away at my life’s “To Do”/Dreams list as well.  A few months ago I felt inspired by my cousin Ryan and my housemate Emily to write one.  I’m not quite ready to publish the entire list but here’s what 2012 will certainly bring:

Goals to be crossed off the list:

1.  Run a 1/2 marathon

I will be running the 25k River Bank Run on May 12 – There I said it.  Now I am committed.

I firmly believe that we (and our bodies) are capable of much more than we believe.  I’m about to prove it.

2.  Become a Registered Dietitian

Testing in July/August

3.  Surprise!!! (for someone else) – I can’t write about it now, but I sure will when it happens!

4.  Read (at least) 1 book a month.

[some] Goals I will continue to work toward:

1.  Be a conscious consumer by making informed, morally sound decisions

buy local, sustainable, used, re-purposed, or ethically produced as much as possible.

2.  Master the perfect pie crust

3.  Become a food preservation expert

4.  Brew my own alcohol

5.  Learn to square dance well

This past year really has been one of personal development.  I think that moving to Michigan made me realize that I am my own person.  I make my own decisions and I’m living my own life.  I saw a quote somewhere that has been my mantra since the move, and will continue to be in the coming year:

“Change is hard, until its not.”

It speaks to me so profoundly.  No waiting around to be the person I want to be.  Moving forward is never easy – until it is… until we’ve worked hard to adopt a new habit, a new outlook, a new way to approach life.  Then, without realizing it, it just becomes a part of who we are, and we’ve changed.  It clicked with me one day when I was running.  I never liked running and always said I would start… someday [like so many other personal goals].  I go through spurts of being active… sometimes.  But one day, I just decided I was going to do it, and before I knew it, I realized I had just run 8.5 miles.  I had worked myself up to it, and you know what, it wasn’t that hard.  It made me think of all the ways I’m different now than I used to be – of all the ways I’m becoming more of the person I want to be.  It also made me realize that all those changes were conscious decisions.  They don’t just happen until we choose to make them happen.  Just start.  We talk a lot in my profession about motivation to change and how no amount of education, instruction, or knowledge will make people change.   They have to want to.  Often it has to do with family – being there for your kids and spouse, or living long enough to see grand kids.  But the most profound reason to change is because we care about ourselves, because we value ourselves, because we love ourselves – that’s real and lasting motivation.  Ok, ok… I’ll stop.  I sound like Lesli – ranting about self love and personal value.  I sure miss that lady.

I never make new years resolutions.  I think the time to be resolute about something – the time to make a change and move forward – is every time you’re faced with that decision/situation.  Not to say that means you do everything perfectly at every moment (we’re all on a continuum) but if you make a conscious decision to take opportunities to learn/do new things, to be more honest, more giving, more peace-filled, more active, more selfless, more generous, more on-time, wiser, I guarantee that after awhile, you will be and you won’t even realize it.

So here’s to 2012 and always moving forward.  (In the figurative and literal sense)   As Robbie would say, “Just keep swimming!”