The weight of an anchor
It took less than seven months to gain fifty+ pounds.
It’s only the last twenty years that I’ve bounced around with weight loss than gain again.
I know with healthy living and exercise I can let go of it again, but I go back-and-forth with feeling motivated then slowly unwinding until it stops. It’s like a spinning top circling before I go to bed with promises of betterment, but somewhere in the first few minutes of the morning it starts to wobble sideways, and within a short while, it topples over and comes to a halt.
I trudge through the day, doing some things I enjoy but many I don’t, and my mind never quite settles down to be with me. It’s like its continually waiting for something.
Excess weight often represents an attempt to protect something, and I feel capable of excavating my truth, but something about that isn’t quite fitting for me.
Yesterday I was frustrated. Not about my weight but around the long drawn out finishing process that is out of my control at the condo.
And then the brown sugar drips outside the baking pan in the oven. The alarm is piercing, neighbors are peering out their doors, but no one was rushing as we’ve had about six false alarms in less than a few months. I’m running back and forth trying to calm Molly down, holding the pan next to the 4″ opening in the bedroom window while dialing property management to tell them it’s not a fire and cursing that I ruined the pineapple upside down cake.
When things had settled down, I sat and wondered what was happening. If I’m not looking for a relationship right now, I feel secure in my life choices; I’m doing well in my studies, then why do I unconsciously seek protection.
Then I hear the words,
“Enough already, I just feel so weighed down with it all!”
There it was.
My body felt like lead, and my mind immediately tried to justify why, but my spirit knew that it wasn’t about protection or relationships or a need to hide.
It was about the constant heavy weight of my thoughts and my lack of integrity to myself. It’s about feeling like an anchor thrown off the side of the boat that was supposed to be sailing off into the sunset.
My cynical self talk about my physical body was so much more potent than the occasional love I gave it with affirmations and bouts of exercise.
My shadow had crawled out from under and was blocking my light. It bombarded me all day, holding me back from a good life. It fed itself more than enough times, using my mind like a feedback loop, endlessly telling me that the simplest things were difficult, tying my shoes or getting off the couch easily because my legs were weak and the more I said it, the more I believed it.
It was the burden of my thoughts as we wrestled day and night about feeling defeated and then feeling bad because I don’t have anything to complain about in comparison, and then feeling heavy with the knowledge that contrast doesn’t help and I should be grateful.
So there I was, weighed down by my psyche.
She wasn’t a trickster or a small part of me that needed acknowledgement; she had grown to be a dense shadow that had managed to turn the dimmer switch down on my aura.
It’s no wonder I walked around exhausted and feeling heavy because she has the strength of a 500 lb anchor.
But these days they have winches. I don’t have to grab large chains with my hands to haul it up; I can ask for help and be ok with taking my power back.
She has shown herself for what she is, just a remnant of neglected love, and with enough compassion sent her way, I can brighten my light by watching my self-talk, adding more movement to my day, and paying attention to what I eat.
I will accept the help offered by others and be more of a cruise ship than a kayak. I will slowly turn the dimmer switch back up until my truth shines through like the new photograph of the black hole.
Darkness may be bulky energy, but just a pinprick of light can shine through and be noticed from billions of miles away.
My light can be the catalyst for reducing the heaviness, and the weight will fall off because I choose to create the action required and be mindful of my thoughts.