Recently, an old enemy reared its head. Actually, it’s a very familiar one. It’s the Body Image Beast. It has haunted me all my life and still, after many years of “working” on it, shows up when I’m feeling vulnerable, afraid, or on the precipice of big change.

There I was, minding my own business, when suddenly I became obsessed with my stomach. Well, actually, I saw a video of myself. And a photo. In both, I was sitting in a slouchy position, my stomach pooched WAAAAAAAAY out there for all to see. Here is my dreadful stomach secret: it is NOT PERFECTLY FLAT. In fact, you could tell that I’ve HAD A BABY. And I have not since magically transformed back to the pre-birth tummy days.

However, I’ve never really thought my stomach looked good, even before having a baby. I’ve never really thought any of my body looked good. I can remember watching a video at the age of ten in which I was standing next to my friend. I was in those very uncomfortable, bunched-up years that happen before the teenage growth spurt. She, somehow, was not. Life is not fair. After I saw the video (it was a school project), I nearly passed out from horror.

So, this recent video/photo experience was not a new one. Yet again, like hundreds of times before, I sank into a deep self-loathing and thought of the many diets I should be on. The exercise regimens I should be doing. Etcetera. I’m sure no one reading this can relate.

The thing is, I know better. I know that diets only create more weight, more pain, more dissatisfaction. I know that this obsession’s reappearance means I need to look inward and see what current emotional discomfort is trying to rise to the surface. I am the master of distraction whenever something REALLY uncomfortable is trying to emerge from my heart. Good old body obsession will often arise whenever I need to face a part or parts of myself.

I spent a good week freaking out about my body. Then, some sanity started to return. I realized that:

1. After I had my baby, I was terribly ill and actually lost a lot of weight, but felt awful. That sucked. Having what I have now – health – is much better.
2. Now I’m about five pounds heavier than before I had my daughter. OMG. Who cares. Also, that is still 45 pounds less that what I used to weigh, before I discovered mind-body awareness.
3. I hate the cultural obsession with being thin and I don’t want to create that environment in my home for my daughter. I want to be healthy. On all levels.

I used to suck my belly in all the time, but that caused a great deal of tension in my pelvis, and became something I had to learn to NOT do in order to be pain free. Now, at least I’m relaxed and healthy. I’m letting my body be my body, instead of being so at war with it.

In the end, I let myself feel the uncomfortable emotions that wanted to rise up into my awareness. I didn’t let the obsession take me all the way into a new diet. (Oh, I’ve done that plenty!) I stayed with myself. I breathed. For two weeks.

Sometimes, that’s what it takes. Actually, all the time, that’s what it takes. I have to stay with myself, allow discomfort, not run away, and just be here. Then, the emotions move through and I feel them. I watch them happen. Sometimes I get a little caught in them. Then I remember that I can watch them, and I’m the observer again.

When I become the observer, (an art I’ve practiced for a long time, and still practice, because it’s not easy – more like a life’s work) the wisdom that wants to surface within me rises up from my heart and into my mind. I see whatever it is my body wants me to know, and whatever it is my heart is saying.

This time, the wisdom was another piece of the same message I’ve been receiving for a long, long time. It was about truly, actually, taking care of myself. It showed me that I haven’t been fully taking nutritional care of my body ever since my daughter was born. I’ve been focused on her, on work, on life – and I forgot to listen to what my body needs and wants. It’s the simplest, easiest way to be healthy, and also the thing I often forget. That’s why I do the work I do in the world. Because I know it takes immense support and practice to do the simplest of things: listen to the body, the inner wisdom, and trust it.

My body doesn’t want me to go on a diet or focus on my stomach or any of those things. It wants specific nutrients. Not nutrients that scientists say I should eat. Not externally motivated “food plans.” It wants to tell me when it’s hungry and what it’s hungry for, each day.

This is a much deeper lesson than just eating in harmony with my body. It’s part of the bigger lesson of self-kindness. That lesson is my life’s work. By that I mean it’s my biggest challenge and also my place of freedom. When I can do it, I’m at peace. When I struggle, I’m at war.

I’ve learned to seek the self-kindness path whenever I realize I’ve re-entered the war. I’m not always sure how to get back on that path, which is why I’ve studied the mind-body connection for years and created mind-body tools for myself. They are always there for me, even if I forget to use them. When I remember, they are waiting for me. They are healing, comforting friends who sit with me when I awaken at two a.m., a “mistake” or “faux pas” haunting me. They are steadfast, those tools. They are bringers of new awareness, and peace.

It’s a new year, and you may be tempted to go on a diet. Flatten your stomach. (Seriously – who ever came up with the idea that stomachs should be flat?!!) Change something you don’t like about yourself. Make big resolutions. Decide to do better, be better, for once and for all.

What about this? What about just deciding to slowly, gently, kindly, learn ways to be kinder to yourself? To leave the war and enter peace? It’s not about being thinner. It’s about being kinder –  To you.

First, figure out what your mind-story is around what you want but don’t yet have.

For example, your mind might say things like:

I can’t make enough money.

I’ll never be healthy.

My business won’t succeed.

I can’t lose weight.

My body isn’t attractive.

 Next, find the opposite of that statement.

 You can embellish it a bit or change the wording, if that feels good. For example:

I can make plenty of money.

I am healthy. (Or I can be healthy.)

My business is succeeding.

I can lose weight.

My body is attractive.

Then, write this new statement at the top of a poster board, huge piece of paper, or whiteboard.

You can use a notebook, too, but a giant thing you can see on your wall every day is the best bet.

Finally, list one piece of evidence that proves your statement true on your poster.

Do this every day for as long as you like, but a month is a really good running start. Here’s an example:

I can lose weight

–          I have lost weight before.

–          I am listening to my body’s hunger signals now and notice I’m eating less.

–          I feel more energetic and want to move more.

–          I haven’t felt like overeating in a week.

–          I have moments where I really can like my body instead of judge it.

–          Etc.

At first, your mind might have a small hissy fit and argue with you when you put your evidence up on the poster. Just keep doggedly adding evidence. You can make your statements as specific or as broad as you need to in order to feel hopeful. For example, you could start with “I am abundant” instead of “I can make plenty of money.” Then, count anything you have in abundance as evidence – even if it’s that you’ve stockpiled many bars of soap.

So, there’s your homework for the next month! This is one of the strongest manifestation tools I use. And recently, a client who did this homework won a $5,000 website makeover after starting her “Things come to me without me trying hard” poster. Yep, that’s right! Get your poster board and marker and start now!

However, in the meantime, here’s a peek into my daily life and how I’m using this concept for myself.

A year ago, I hired a contractor to do some renovations on my house. They weren’t huge changes like major additions, but there was a significant amount of work. Our house needed a laundry room, much updating, and lots of little fixes. We bought a fixer-upper before we knew we really hate fixing-up. So, I was delighted to have someone with expertise make our house a home.

I will admit, I was a newbie to the contractor experience. I did not realize that contractors live in a completely different time zone, independent of all officially recognized time zones. We’ll call it Contractor Time. Contractor Time is based on two-week cycles. This means that they tell you everything will be done in two weeks, every time you ask. They also disappear for two weeks at a time on a regular basis.

So here we are, a year later, and the project is not yet done. A few weeks ago, I found myself getting hysterical about this fact, and experiencing a great deal of anger and copious amounts of weeping. (I’m sure NONE of this is related to being pregnant.)

I really, really, really want this done before the baby arrives. I never in a million years thought we’d still be in construction mode at this point.

So, I sat down and connected with my emotions. I knew there had to be a message in there, and I was really hoping my soul wisdom would have something helpful to say. I had reached a limit. My life has been completely turned upside down between not knowing when the contractor will be in my house (every day it’s a gamble – in fact, my husband and I have started betting) and having constant disruption while trying to live here, run a business, and be pregnant.

I’ve kind of gotten used to the constant chaos. My life looks a little something like this: I’ve given the contractor instructions/input in between first-trimester vomiting events. I’ve dashed down the hall dressed only in a towel when he showed up unexpectedly. I’ve tripped over piles of equipment, moved in and out of rooms repeatedly, and coached from every corner of the house. Today, I ran into the bathroom to pee, forgot to shut the door, and realized he was right around the corner in the kitchen. To be honest, I didn’t even care. He’s like a permanent member of our household.

When I sat down to check in with my emotions and my soul wisdom, a message came through loud and clear. Here’s what my emotions and my soul said:

Sadness: It’s time to let go of your current way of working and living as you step into your new life as a mother. I’m here to help you let go.

Anger: I’m here to help you communicate clearly and stand up for what you believe in, which you’ll need to do as a mother. I give you strength.

Soul: This is all happening to give you practice ground for the new life you’ll be living as a mother. You’ll have constant interruptions. You’ll need to work and live differently. You’ll need to find ways to stay connected to yourself, to find peace, to make life the way you want it, with a lot of randomness and surprise curveballs. This is a great chance to practice so that you can move toward this new way of living.

Immediately, I felt my body relax. This all rang so true that I could see exactly why it all needed to happen this way. I’m not saying I became perfectly peaceful and haven’t had a moment of anger since. No, I’ve still had my freak-outs about this house project. However, I can return and return to this inner wisdom, reminding myself to use this chaos to practice what I know. And that is working.

Without my emotions and my soul wisdom, I would be in a constant state of stress and panic around this issue. I’m grateful to be able to let go of stress, let go of tension, and stay connected and healthy in the face of whatever is happening. That’s the power of the mind-body-soul connection, and the power of letting my emotions be a guide in my life rather than something I avoid or suppress.

 These are the questions my clients often asked, so over the years, I sought to make the mind-body connection practice as easy as possible. I sought to make my explanations of how mind-body practices work as simple and easy to understand as possible. When you’re in pain, suffering, hating yourself, fighting against your body (how it looks, how much weight you’re carrying), feeling insecure, and completely stressed out, you don’t need something complicated to add to your life.

In fact, this is often the major problem for my clients. By nature, they are over-achievers. They put immense pressure on themselves to do things well, perfectly, or beyond all expectations. They want to excel, be responsible, be in control. When they do something, they do it all out. They think they need to do everything. They have trouble cutting themselves any slack. They judge themselves harshly. They use fear and to motivate themselves to keep going, going, going, beyond their limits.

I know, because this is how I treated myself, too. The result? Chronic tension and pain, a feeling of never doing or being enough, a sense that I was broken/there was something wrong with me, extra weight on my body, and the feeling that my own mind would drive me crazy with criticism.

For someone like me, with those tendencies, learning how to heal via the mind-body connection can become just another thing to do perfectly. I put pressure on myself to spend hours working on myself . Then, if I didn’t follow my strict plan, I’d berate myself. Of course, this didn’t exactly expedite my healing process or improve my mind-body connection. It simply created more stress and a nasty catch-22.

Finally, I caught on. I needed to actually listen to my body and do only as much “mind-body work” as felt right to me. 2 minutes of breathing could be incredibly useful. If I took the pressure off myself to do some elaborate plan and just followed what felt right and helpful, I was actually able to heal more quickly.

When I coach clients, they come in with all kinds of ideas about what they should be doing. In our first session, we usually find a way to take pretty much everything off their plates. We find the simplest, easiest, most enjoyable mind-body practice possible.

When I wrote my ebook, Hear Your Soul, Heal Yourself, I tried to convey this idea. By keeping it simple with four basic mind-body skills and a very easy way to use them in your life, I hoped to make it a relaxing experience to improve your mind-body-soul connection.

However, truth be told, I’m itching to see how it’s going for you. I know there are likely places where you might be struggling a bit, putting pressure on yourself, feeling confused, or just not quite sure how to put it all together. I want to talk to all of you. Of course, it’s a bit difficult to talk to every single person reading the book. That is why I decided to create a telecourse based on the ebook. That way, you can join me in a community discussion about the mind-body skills in the book. You can tell me where you’re struggling (which is likely where others are, too), and we can troubleshoot.

Writing is fun, but I LOVE talking. I love interacting with you and knowing what’s working and what isn’t. I love the constant conversation about mind-body healing with clients, class attendees, and Facebook. I love finessing the application of the mind-body skills to your particular issue. Nothing could be more fun! So, I’m inviting everyone who grabbed a copy of the ebook to join me in the upcoming Hear Your Soul, Heal Yourself Telecourse. If it sounds like something you’d enjoy or find useful, please do join in!

With my limited 1-1 coaching hours (though I’d love to coach everyone who wants coaching, I’d most definitely have to clone myself!), this gives you a highly affordable way to get the help and support you need in applying the ebook concepts to your healing, weight loss, confidence-improving, stress-relieving, or business-building journey. Whichever journey you’re on, we’ll have a blast tweaking and improving your mind-body process so that it really works for you. I can’t wait to answer your questions, coach you, and have a fabulously fun conversation with all of you about everything mind, body, and soul!

Find out all the details here!  

I’ve often felt like I’m constantly pushing at the universe, asking it to work faster. Whatever is going on in my life, I’m behind it, pushing with both arms, face red with exertion, and legs taut with effort. Often (as in, always), this doesn’t really do any good. Even with all that extra energy and effort, things don’t really move along any faster.

A couple of years ago, I coined the term “over-efforting” to describe this way of living. I had caught on that it wasn’t working for me, and started to practice the art of listening for right timing. Things tend to work out easily, smoothly, and effortlessly if I listen for the perfect moment to do them.

Recently, though, I’ve been learning something even more interesting. I’ve been learning the art of waiting. In some ways, I’ve been learning this for over ten years, starting with my chronic pain syndrome journey and the discovery of mind-body healing. When I was struggling with vulvodynia and interstitial cystitis, I had to let my body take the lead and heal at its own pace. The more I tried to hurry it, the slower it went.

However, being pregnant has taught me a whole new level of following my body’s lead. There’s just no rushing a pregnancy. In fact, time has seemed to slow down while I’ve been pregnant, and I have this sense that there are more hours in the day than before. There are many things I cannot rush during this process.

I can’t rush the baby’s growth.

I can’t rush my mental and emotional readiness to be a parent.

I can’t rush my preparations for the baby’s arrival.

I can’t rush anything, because I mostly have to waddle everywhere.

I’ve started to see how waiting can be a good thing in my everyday life; maybe because this pregnancy is teaching me the art of waiting and there’s no dropping this class.

Over a year ago, we hired a contractor to renovate our home, and the project has lagged onward, dragging, sagging, and slowly, ever so very slowly, getting done. Recently, the contractor vanished for a month with nary a text or phone call. At first, I was resigned to a lost week of work. The second week brought some anxiety about getting the house ready before Baby Girl arrives. By the third week, I was annoyed as heck.

I wanted to call the contractor, text him, or drive to his home and drag him over here to work. Yet, something in me said, “Wait.” So I waited. I didn’t contact him. I breathed. I coached myself. I felt my emotions. And then, he contacted me. It turned out he’d had a terrible family emergency and had been dealing with that for four weeks. I was immensely relieved I had not sent angry texts numbers one-fifteen that I’d composed in my head. I was quite glad I hadn’t left any of the grumpy, hormonal messages I’d dreamed of leaving in his voicemail. Instead, I’d waited. Truly, for me, that is somewhat miraculous.

Lately, I’ve noticed that I hear that word a lot. “Wait,” says my soul, every time I want to push and hurry something along. When I want my husband to do something, I start to say it, start to push at him, and then I hear it. “Wait.” I breathe. I wait. I let the universe do its thing. Without me saying anything, he does what I’m hoping he’ll do. He’s already on it. He knows. He doesn’t need me to push.

Really, as far as I can tell, nothing needs me to push. Lately, I’ve taken to spending even more time resting and lolling about in a meditative state. This is partially due to my baby-growing exhaustion, but it’s also because I’ve realized that the less I push and force and try and effort, the more things magically just work. Without my help.

If you’re a law of attraction fan like me, you’ll find that you manifest what you want more quickly when you wait instead of push. (In fact, you might enjoy the article I wrote on Slacker Manifesting!

Here’s my new mantra, and you’re welcome to try it out, too:

Wait.

I use it whenever I want to hurry, push, or go faster in any way.

Often when I start working with a client who wants physical pain relief or weight loss, the first thing they ask me is how long it took me to heal my own body. Pretty much everyone wants the healing process to happen quickly. I’ve learned, though, from my body, that healing cannot be rushed. The body will heal and return to balance with itself if you quit pushing it and start listening to it. There can’t be a time frame, a schedule, or a hurry.

Whatever you want – be it health, weight loss, joy, a successful business, stress relief, confidence, etc. – the answer lies in the art of waiting. When you wait and let the universe show you the way, you’ll know exactly what action steps will serve you. You’ll reserve effort for when it’s most efficient. You’ll make fewer people angry with you. You’ll enjoy a more peaceful existence within yourself. And, paradoxically, you’ll find that things get done faster. Which, for a Quick Start, is really, really good news.

Now, as an adult, I’d have to narrow down my top two career choices to life coach and spy. I realize that being a spy might be a tad unrealistic. First, I’d have to be able to shoot a gun with accurate aim, something that is not in my skill-set. (Instead, I’d likely harm myself and innocent bystanders.) I’d probably be more like Jonny English than Sydney Bristow  if I was a spy. Second – well, there are numerous reasons the spy lifestyle just isn’t for me.

Recently, I was pondering this seemingly dichotomous pair of interests. I wondered why I have always been so passionate about spying, when it was never something I’d really do. The FBI would probably cringe at the very thought of recruiting me. Then I realized that the essence of what I love about spying is the very essence of coaching. It’s observing other people, noticing, and cataloging information without making judgments.

Even more than that, it’s the very core of what I’ve learned about creating peace in my own life. If I can observe myself, take notes, and study myself without judgment, I can learn about myself. I can take the pressure off and stop constantly trying to change myself. Instead, I can get to know myself.

A good spy has to stay detached as she observes and gathers information. She can’t be emotionally involved with the subjects in her mission, because then she can’t view them objectively.

Being a good spy in your own life requires the same skill. It requires stepping back and observing yourself as though you were watching a complete stranger. All those ideas about how you think you should be, who you think you are, ideas you’ve accumulated about yourself, judgments you’ve long held – they all have to go out the window.

To accomplish this, I pretend I’m a spy looking in on my own life. If you don’t have a passion for spying, you might pretend you are a scientist observing an experiment. That requires the same detachment and non-judgmental observation skills. Whether you’re a spy or a scientist, you’ll be doing the same thing: observing and noting things about yourself, then drawing conclusions, and finally, taking action.

Often, when something isn’t working in our lives, the temptation is to jump straight into action or fix mode. Solve the problem! Do something!

This is skipping an important and essential step: observation and discovery. If you really do look before you leap, you’ll find that you are much more efficient and effective with the action steps you take to improve your life.

For example, let’s say I want to lose weight. The action mode might take me into dieting and starting a new exercise plan. But how do I know if those are really effective for me? How do I know that’s what I actually need? The truth is, I don’t.

First, I need to take some time to observe myself. I need to ask questions like, what is my relationship with food? Do I eat when I’m not hungry? Do I use food to avoid emotions? If so, how? What are the most common triggers for me? Why do I use food to avoid emotions? What am I thinking about when I overeat? Am I overeating for other reasons, like a desire to feel more connected to my body? Am I overeating a food group because I’m not getting enough of another? Am I actually not eating enough during parts of the day? Do I know how to feel emotions? What is driving my dislike for my body? Where am I putting pressure on myself and creating a catch-22, because it makes me overeat? Am I already exercising, but not in the way my body wants?

I could go on and on. There are so many unanswered questions, because I haven’t taken the time to observe, notice, and learn. Instead, I’m making a judgment – I’m overweight. Therefore, I must lose weight. Bam – action. The action may not even remotely fit the need.

Like Harriet the Spy, I still carry around a notebook. I call it my self-observation journal. (I haven’t thought of anything catchier.) In it, I notice things about myself. I keep it simple, and just try to notice emotions, thoughts, body sensations, and needs or desires. I also write down conclusions or things I’ve learned about myself from my observations.

You, too, can keep a notebook, if you want. I find that writing helps me with my observation skills. After doing this for a few years now, I notice that my first step, when I notice a problem, is now to step back and observe, with or without my journal. I’ve created a new habit. I’ve become a better spy in my own life. Which, since the FBI hasn’t called yet, is probably the closest I’ll come to being a kick-ass spy. I’ll take it.

I ate food to calm myself, to stuff my emotions down, and to avoid connecting with myself. I got caught up in the flurry of hating my body, trying to change it, and focusing on what I should/shouldn’t eat. That kept me successfully distracted from myself for years. I was too busy to feel emotions, connect to my inner wisdom, or any other such scary notions.

I also used food to help me find joy. Because I wasn’t allowing myself to feel a full range of emotions, real joy eluded me. I had to focus on its distant cousin, pleasure. Now I’m not saying pleasure is bad. In fact, it’s one of the best things about being alive. But pleasure without joy is empty and hollow. The delicious taste of a crunchy bite of cinnamon toast is a moment of pure delight when it’s both pleasurable and joyful.

Eventually, through the mind-body skills, I came to a much more peaceful relationship with my body and food. I felt good about my body, I listened to what it wanted to eat, and I took delight in the taste and variety of everything I ate. I felt joy. I felt sadness. I felt anger. I felt contentment. Finally, I was alive – living fully in my body and working with it instead of fighting it. There were still times when I grabbed a snack instead of feeling an emotion, but I wasn’t trying to be perfect anymore. I had found an equilibrium. Less self-pressure, more listening to myself.

Then, I got pregnant. For the first two weeks, I was ravenously hungry. I ate everything in site. My mind started to freak out. “You’ll be the fattest pregnant woman ever!” it shouted. “Aaaagh! Stop eating for two – you don’t need that much!”

So, in other words, I forgot everything I know about listening to my body.

Wise body was stocking up. Right after those two weeks of nonstop noshing, I was smacked with constant, never-ending, nausea. I am not exaggerating. I spent so much time lying on the couch that I began to blend into it – a moaning, groaning couchy lump. My mom would come visit and talk to me while I lay there, half-alive. I did a lot of writing and other work from my lump position, or in bed. Sometimes I sat up for meetings. That was the extent of my exercise, other than the occasional nauseous walk.

Needless to say, food lost all of its pleasure and joy. Everything smelled revolting and tasted awful. Yet, if I didn’t eat a little bit every couple of hours, I actually felt worse. So I resorted to force-feeding myself and eating while feeling nauseous. I am not sure there is actually anything more revolting than that experience.

For the first time in my life, I could have cared less about food. I dreamed of fasting. I longed to just drink juice for a week. But my body kept up its demanding schedule of small meals every 2-3 hours. Needless to say, I did not gain any weight during the first trimester of the pregnancy. Those first couple weeks of ravenous eating served me well, though, because I didn’t lose any weight, either. I just maintained, which gave me peace of mind. At least the baby was getting nutrition.

Around week eighteen, the nausea began to leave. Bit by bit, I started to feel better. One day, I woke up feeling really good. I was scheduled to go to lunch with a friend, and lunch actually tasted delicious. It was miraculous!

Then, later that day, I felt this strange feeling in my chest. I noticed an awful sour taste in my mouth. Confused, I consulted my pregnancy books. Diagnosis? Heartburn and indigestion – apparently a common pregnancy companion.

So yes – I enjoyed literally one meal before being plunged into a new digestive hell. To relieve the fiery pain in my chest, I had to strip my diet of all yummy things, including garlic, citrus foods, spicy foods, mustard, tomatoes, and more. Even with every possible heartburn remedy on board, I was only able to feel somewhat normal, and food still didn’t taste or sound that great. Mostly everything tasted a bit sour, like old milk. Every now and then, my body would grumble for more food, but the pleasure element had disappeared completely.

I finally surrendered to the idea that food would be nourishment, not joy, for the duration of this pregnancy.

In surrendering, I found an element of peace. It seemed do-able, this 9-month takeover of my body. Yet, it still felt and feels strange to not enjoy food at all. I reflected on the irony of spending a lifetime trying not to gain weight only to now find it difficult to gain weight when I need to. After spending years healing my relationship with my body and learning to listen to it, I now find it absolutely in charge of this pregnancy. I simply sit back and do what it says. My mind has absolutely no say. If I eat something because it simply sounds fun to my mind, my body demands in no uncertain terms that I stop immediately. Sugary foods, processed foods, snacky carbs – all those things I used to enjoy are now not even remotely appealing. You couldn’t get me to eat a Dorito for anything, because my body would immediately reject it.

Since healing my mind-body relationship, I’ve given up diets and strict food plans. I’ve taken away all restriction from my eating. I don’t avoid gluten or dairy like I used to, I’m not a vegetarian, and I eat “bad” foods that are processed or sugary. Overall, with this non-restrictive approach, I find that my body drifts toward what it needs and we don’t have fights. I don’t overeat very often and I don’t eat piles of things that my body doesn’t want. We’ve found a peaceful medium.

This current pregnancy diet is not a mind-imposed experience. I am not eating in this strict fashion because I think it is good for me, or I’m afraid of gaining weight, or I’m afraid that eating certain foods will exacerbate a pain syndrome. (Those are all things I’ve done in the past.) No, I’m eating only the foods that work in my body because my body is insistent about what it needs and wants. After so many years of mind ruling body, now body is ruling mind. It’s a funny switch. I’m comfortable now only because I surrendered and stopped fighting with my mind.

I tell you this long story because I’m smack in the middle of a new journey, a new learning curve with my mind-body relationship. I’m right in the middle of the learning process, and I’d love to take you with me. I’m fascinated. I’m amazed. I’m seeing the food and body image thing so differently now.

I look forward to someday having the pleasure and joy of eating return. I now see it not as a frustration or an addiction, not as bad or good, not as a siren song or temptress, but even more as a beautiful, joyful part of being alive. I can still have joy and peace and contentment in my life without the joy of food. I can still feel perfectly good and I can still love my life.

But there is something to be said for the spice of life – literally. Taste and texture and deliciousness are to be enjoyed and loved, because they are a part of living. A part of taking care of our beautiful bodies. A part of being physical in these beautiful bodies.

It’s a strange experience, my body being hijacked by baby. I salute to its demands, and I do not argue. My body is infinitely wise. In some ways, it’s kind of nice to be completely and totally, one-hundred-percent free of emotional eating right now. I am gaining a new perspective. I can separate out nutrition needs versus emotional needs with ease. I can see the purpose of loving food without using it as an emotional tool.

I can also see just how confused our relationship with food can be. What if it was so simple – ask your body what it really needs, verify through trial and error that you’re hearing its messages accurately, feel emotions when they arise, and then take immense pleasure in the taste of every bite you eat? Toss in a few non-essential foods that just sound fun each day. Done.

I’d love to hear from you about where you are on your food and body-image journey. What if you were in my shoes, and nothing tasted good at all? (Trust me – though you may wish for it, it’s not all its cracked up to be.)

I’m inviting you to enjoy a bite of food today, with all your taste buds, all your senses, every ounce of delight available, and immense joy. Just one bite. Do it for me. I’m living vicariously through you.

Even better – do it for you. Take pleasure and joy in the gift of eating. Let yourself love your food and yourself, for at least one bite today.

The other day I went to coffee with my personal trainer, and we were chatting about fitness, the urge women have to do endless, hideous (in my opinion, of course) hours of cardio exercise instead of strength training, and our cultural viewpoint around women with muscles and strength. She mentioned she was giving a workshop entitled “Strong is the New Skinny.” I loved that phrase so much I could practically feel a blog post writing itself as we spoke.

As I mentioned in a recent post, I’ve had body image struggles for most of my life.  I have often argued with my body about its natural shape – muscular, not a lot in the, er…chest department, and did I say muscular? For a long time, I ACHED to be a tall, willowy, delicate body type. There were periods in my life where I pretended I could achieve this by either a) starving myself, b) doing “lengthening workouts” like Pilates or c) running thousands of miles until I transformed my body into a “runner’s body.”

After much practice, I’ve finally learned to love my body as-is, and to embrace my natural muscular strength. I’ve stopped doing hours of mindless cardio exercise, because my body doesn’t really like it, it drains me energetically, and I find it is just another way for me to ignore my body or push it past its limits. Also, it doesn’t make the slightest difference in my weight or size.

Now, I do primarily heavy weight lifting, short interval cardio workouts, walking, and yoga. It only took me 20 years to finally listen to my body and respect the type of workout it actually likes to do. Lo and behold, I am now actually fitter than I’ve ever been, and I look pretty nice in a pair of jeans. I’m not willowy. You would never mistake me for a swimsuit model. But I feel good about how I care for my body. I feel good in my body. I feel strong. (I’m not saying my workout style is perfect for everyone. I am saying that your body is a much better fitness guide than any fitness guru out there. It helps you design the perfect workout for you.)

Yes, I still have “fat” days here and there, but I’ve come to a new place with my body. I now stand naked in front of the mirror every morning and compliment myself. This is quite a change from the past, in which I once gained 50 pounds without even noticing. I am not kidding. I hated my body so much that I simply couldn’t even tell what it really looked like. I always assumed I needed to lose some huge number of pounds and that I looked terrible, so I didn’t even see the reality in the mirror.

This disconnect played a huge role in my weight gain. When I finally realized what had happened, I looked back at old pictures of myself and discovered I’d spent years thinking I was overweight when I was really just me. I was at my body’s happy weight. Being overweight taught me about my relationship with my body, so I am grateful I went through that experience. I learned how to actually see myself. I learned how to actually be myself, no apologies needed.

The truth is, I am a strong person. I am strong physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. One of my biggest strengths is my strength. I was given the gift of muscles. Even if I don’t work out for weeks, I am strong. In high school, my peers on the swim team called me “Muscles.” I have shoulders and biceps that can power through the pool for hours on end. I have stamina. I have serious thighs. I could probably leap tall buildings at a single bound. I wear totally different dress and pants sizes because of those beauties.

When I was a kid, my dad called me many different nicknames, one of which was “Elephant Touch.” This was because I had trouble dealing with my own strength and often accidentally broke things, gave my brother concussions while playing catch, and otherwise wreaked havoc. The other day we got out the Wiffle ball during a family gathering, and I took the first turn at bat. I took a nice, powerful swing and promptly crushed the ball. Literally. My brother picked it up, held its sad mangled remains in his hand, and shook his head. “I forgot what it’s like to play sports with you,” he said.

I used to feel ashamed of this strength. I used to hate it when people called me strong, muscular, or anything like it. Now, I am proud to be strong. I’m not ripped, I’m not ready to hop on stage at a body builder show, but I do have muscle on me. This is the body I was given, and I finally love it just the way it is. I can see how my strength helps me every single day.

So here’s my question for you today: What about your body has always bothered you, and how can you see it in a new light? How is it a gift?

I think how we treat our bodies, see our bodies, and feel in our bodies is so interconnected. It’s time to make some serious changes in how we talk about our bodies. Nearly everyone I coach struggles with body image dissatisfaction, and I’ve begun to realize just how hard many of us are on ourselves. I used to think I was alone in my struggle, but now I see just how prevalent this issue is for both women and men.

Probably one of the most important things we can do for ourselves in this lifetime is learn to like and love our own bodies, even as they change, age, gain/lose weight, hurt, heal, and otherwise have the physical human experience. Loving our own bodies brings us home. They don’t have to look good, perfect, or even remotely like the “ideal” for us to love them.

Why in the world would willowy be any better than strong? Why is “fat” something we abhor? Why have we picked one normal, natural part of being physical and turned it into something awful? (In fact, I think it’s the classic “what you resist, persists.” The more we “fight fat” the harder it is to be in harmony with our bodies and find a healthy balance as individuals.) Why would I strive for skinny when my body loves strong? Why should any single part of me be any different than it is? There is beauty everywhere in every human body, just waiting to be seen. I’m looking. Are you?

Want to join me in banishing the nasty body talk and learning to treat your body with love? Hop on the phone Tuesday, 8/23 at 9 PT/10 MT/11 CT/12 ET for my monthly Body Talk call for Good Vibe University.

Call In Info: (724) 444-7444 Call ID: 92813 (use 1# if prompted for pin)

The topic is Body Image and I’ve planned a fun and interactive process to help all of us shift how we treat our bodies. (The call is free if you join in live, but recordings are only available to GVU members. If you’re at all interested in the Law of Attraction, I can’t recommend a GVU membership enough! No, I’m not an affiliate, either! I just love Jeannette Maw and her work.)

I was reading fellow coach Jeannette Maw’s blog post about her belly spell this week (The belly spell really cracked me up! Soooo funny! I love Jeannette!) and it inspired this post. I have struggled for many years – my entire life, actually – with body image issues. I can remember clearly when I first started disliking my body. I was ten years old, just beginning those pre-teen, puberty-ridden years, and I saw a video of myself. I was horrified. From that day on, I fought with my body.

I do not have a traditional model body. I am not tall and thin. I am of medium height and muscular build. I tend to look fit and athletic when my body and I are getting along, but I do not weigh in at a featherweight number, ever. When I was struggling with overeating, emotional eating, and severe body dislike, my weight went up near the two-hundred pound mark.

I’ve since returned to my body’s natural weight, but even after the experience of actually being overweight, I struggled to like my body. I kept thinking it should look like the “ideal.” Yet, even when I went on strict diets, my body would drop maybe two to five pounds below my natural weight and then I would get sick. It was clearly a fight that simply didn’t need to be fought. My body is perfectly happy weighing 143 pounds. It is my mind that argues with that.

Much of my personal mind-body work has been directed at this body image issue. I longed to love my body instead of fight my body. For many years, I thought this meant I had to change my body. Then I realized I had to change my relationship with it instead. I had to connect to it, learn to live in it, learn to listen to it, learn to feel my emotions, and recognize mind-stories that weren’t serving me. (Like “I should look like a model.”)

I started to see that stressing about my weight and body was one of my biggest ways to run from my emotions and avoid facing feeling them. It was what I call a decoy – something that successfully occupies me so I simply have no attention left for my emotions. All of this self-awareness combined started to help me love my body more and more. I didn’t love it every day, but I was tipping the balance way more to the love side.

Then, something happened. In January this year, I got pregnant. I was so excited, and so very ready to embark on the motherhood journey. I was excited to experience the changes in my body and the magic of growing a baby in my belly. Like Jeannette, I’ve often wished for a flatter belly, but I was willing to let it expand to hold a new little one inside me.

It was a little disconcerting to notice my jeans fitting more snugly. At only six weeks pregnant, I started to feel somewhat puffy. Then at eight weeks, there were some clothing items that were downright stretched. At nine weeks, I was pretty sure I’d need some new clothes soon, and the waistband of my favorite jeans was uncomfortably tight.  I could feel my backside expanding, too. While I understood it was necessary, I admit to a wince or two after glancing over my shoulder into the mirror.

At nine and half weeks, I miscarried.

The shock was unbelievable. The grief was overwhelming. The physical pain was tiring. I felt empty in my belly, lost in my heart, and just…sad. I was so ready to be a mom. It felt like there was a hole in that mom-space I’d created, both internally and externally. My body was tired and aching, my mind confused, and my emotions strong.

Even as I grieved, I could see the power in my body’s wisdom. It was aware of things I couldn’t know, and it knew this pregnancy wasn’t a go, for whatever reason. I didn’t have to know the details in my mind to feel that my body knew best. I let it do what it needed – sleep, rest, and cry.

After a few weeks, I started going back to my normal routine. Letting the grief flow allowed me to start healing, allowed my body to start regaining energy, and I began to feel like I was almost alive again. I had moments of joy shine through the fog of grief.

One day, I put on my jeans to run an errand. I’d mostly been wearing yoga pants for my resting, sleeping, and grieving phase. I slipped the jeans on, threw on a shirt, and started for the door, purse in hand. Something in that movement caught my attention. My jeans weren’t tight. The waistband wasn’t cutting into my belly anymore. There was room to move in them.

I felt the loose jeans from my belly straight to my heart – a visceral, shocking, upside-down moment.

I set down my purse and cried.  I ached for that tight-jeans feeling. I wanted it back. I wanted my belly to still be expanding. I wanted my backside to be popping seams. I wanted to be shopping for maternity clothes. I didn’t want my jeans to be loose at all. Once of my lifelong desires simply vanished in that instant. I could have cared less how I looked, how thin I was or wasn’t, or what anyone in the world thought of my body. I could have cared less for fashion or the shape of my waist, or any of it. It all paled in comparison to the longing for what was lost.

I never thought I’d be sad because my jeans were loose. I never thought I’d see my body from that vantage point. But because I did, I have something powerful to hold in my mind. Because life goes on, you know. I now have the same old thoughts pop up about how I look in my pants, whether I’ve gained a pound or lost a pound, why my belly can’t just magically transform itself to something much cuter, what dreadful fashion designer cooked up the latest non-flattering style on purpose just to torture me. They come into my mind. And sometimes they bug me for a day or two.

But then I can simply remember. I can drop back into that moment when I was heartbroken that my jeans were loose. I am grateful for that moment, because it gave me a new relationship with my body. I saw what my body can do – it can grow life in it! How amazing! It can heal from loss. It can serve me, every day, even if I’m angry with it. It doesn’t have to look like any prescribed ideal to be completely, totally perfect. Yes, it changed even from a short pregnancy. Yes, I am a little older these days than in my teen years. Yes, I have a wrinkle or two.

But in the end, my body is healthy. We’ve been through chronic pain together, she and I, and now we’ve been through this, too. She’s a war-horse. She’s strong. She still takes to the jogging path and the hiking trail with energy and enjoyment, even after all she’s experienced. I’m impressed. She bounces back. She brings me daily enjoyment in so many different ways. Without her, I’d have no home for my soul. I wouldn’t have a voice, a mind, a heart. I need her. She needs me.

So we’re working together, my body and me. We’re on the same team. Even if we have the occasional disagreement, our relationship is much improved. The war is over. I love her. She’s always loved me. We’re friends.  And she hasn’t dropped a single pound or shed an ounce of fat for me to come to this place of connection, love, and peace. She carried a baby for me. She took care of me. She was there. And truly, that is all I need.

This weekend, I was feeling a little disconnected, stressed, and tense. My shoulders were inching up around my ears and clearly holding some kind of emotion. I knew it was time to walk my talk, so I mind-body coached myself.

This experience reminded me that I haven’t written much about what I call mind-body maintenance. Once you’ve released your mind-body pain syndrome and have created health, you enter the mind-body maintenance phase. This phase is where you learn about forgetting and remembering.  I myself have forgotten the mind-body tools at least a million times in the ten years I’ve been using them. As soon as I realize I’ve forgotten, I remember them. There they are, like trusty old friends, waiting for me.

Many of my clients have had small panic attacks during the maintenance phase, because after months or years of pain-free living, a symptom pops up. It is usually quite mild, but most people immediately imagine they will be diving back into dealing with their pain syndrome daily.

Not so!

Here is where living the mind-body way becomes really worthwhile. Instead of fearing a symptom appearance, you get to experience a newfound confidence in your ability to create health. The truth is, you know what to do when a symptom shows up.

Here’s the deal: whatever your symptom may be – burning in the hoo-ha region, bladder irritability, a couple extra pounds, a bout of IBS gas that requires you to blame the dog – it is only here to remind you to remember what you’ve forgotten.

Should a symptom, new or familiar, appear, it’s time to take a close look at the last month and see where you have forgotten to connect to your body, feel your emotions, and use your mind-body basics.

Your mind might try to make this complicated. It might tell you a million different reasons why you’re experiencing this episode. Here are a few examples:

“Well, I probably need a major surgery or some other procedure.”

“This pain in my back just HAS to be from that time I stubbed my toe in 1983. Why else would it be here? There’s really no other explanation.”

“I am just doomed to gain weight – it must be genetics. Or maybe I was abducted by aliens and they injected me with a fat-causing serum. It can’t possibly be that I overate! I’m sure I ate just fine all month.”

“My bladder must be upset because I drank/ate [insert your choice of food or drink here]. Oh no! Oh no!”

“What is wrong with me! Why does this happen! What do I do! I have no idea what to do! Oh my God! AAAAAGGHHHHH!”

Your individual mind, of course, will tailor its freak-out to your personal situation. The trick here is to realize your mind is LOST. It doesn’t know what to do, and it is in search-for-the-reason mode BECAUSE you are disconnected from your body and emotions. It cannot help you in this moment unless you stop and remember your mind-body basics.

1)     Stop whatever you’re doing, breathe, and pay attention to your body. Scan your body from your feet to your head, and really check in. Where do you notice tension? Be IN your body, instead of thinking about your body/analyzing/looking for solutions.

2)     Breathe. Take five minutes to just breathe.

3)     Ask yourself the question, “What am I feeling now?” Then allow yourself to feel that emotion.

That is the simplest, most basic form of the mind-body tools. You can do this in a short ten minutes. Keep it up daily for a week and you’ll realize that your symptom is just here to remind you of what you forgot. Breathe. Feel. Breathe. Feel. Every day. Take time to notice your body. See what it really wants. Any time you have been ignoring it, you’ll likely discover some pent-up emotion, some requests for rest or a slower pace (or other change in your habits), and then a return to peace and health. The symptom will disappear quickly – within days, hours, and even minutes.

Eventually, as you learn how to manage yourself in the maintenance phase, you’ll find that your nemesis symptoms only arise when you’ve really gotten off track, and even then, they are quite mild. For the most part, you’ll spend your days pain-free, because you’ll be paying attention to your body and noticing any tension before it turns into actual pain, or any upsurge in food intake before it turns into ten pounds.

Wish you knew even more about how to manage yourself in the maintenance phase? Not to worry – a whole slew of material on this is in the works!

Everyone forgets. We all disconnect. The goal is not to do the mind-body process perfectly, day in and day out. It’s simply to notice when you’ve forgotten and then pick up the tools and use them. Not perfectly. Not for three hours. Ten little minutes. That’s all. Remember that you do know how to do this. Now it’s time to do it.

Breathe. (I’m not kidding about breathing. It’s incredibly powerful. Click here and scroll down for the Help! I Think I Need to Learn How to Breathe Audio/Video Course.