Thought of the Day 1/30/2013: A New US Low?

I have to be extremely careful in writing this article as it pertains to confidential information I received at work; but it is representative of America's biggest issue, obesity (pun intended).  Being particularly passionate on this subject, I wanted to share my thoughts.

It seems that the epidemic of obesity has reached such formidable proportions in America that there is now pressure to make super concentrated pharmaceuticals.  Since a human can only swallow a pill so big, or take a shot containing so much solution, pharmaceutical companies have to find a way to put more drug into the same volumes currently being manufactured.  For example, a syringe containing 5 mL for solution contains a certain concentration of medicine.  Since it can be harmful to inject over 5 mL of the solution into the body at once, there is a need to increase the amount of medicine within the same 5 mL syringe.  This also applies to pills.  A pill contains a certain amount of medicine and to include more would typically mean the pill would get bigger, but many people cannot tolerate swallowing large pills so instead more medication must go into pills of the same size.  All this because people are now so large that the original dosages are no longer sufficient.  Why is this necessary you ask?  Simply because fat cells are gaping craters that attract everything from water to complex molecules such as medicine and toxins; black holes of sorts.  Instead of reaching the cells that need it, medication is sucked up by fat cells along the way; enough to render it ineffective in people obese enough.  Perhaps the worst part is that this initiative involves only the US.  These concentrated drug formulations that will be extremely difficult, and thus expensive, to develop and they will only serve a fraction of the population.

In stating this frustration, I also openly admit my extreme bias for one substantiated reason: After 23 years of obesity I fought against my genetics, and what I thought to be the physical limitations of my Body, and lost the weight.  A horrible diet and eating habits, general inactivity and a poor metabolism resulted in my own obesity, beginning at age 5.  At 22 years old, 5' 2' and 239 pounds, my BMI was 43.7; within the MORBIDLY obese category.  After a complete lifestyle change including my permanent commitment to nutrition and exercise, I lost 114 pounds.  I did this despite bad genetics and a metabolism clinically proven to be significantly lower than that of others my weight and height.  If I were to ditch my new lifestyle, I would immediately begin to gain the weight back.  Of course I believe that if I can, and did, accomplish this feat, anyone is capable of the transformation.  Therefore, I have zero compassion for people who use metabolism as an excuse for their girth.  

Was the weight loss fun and/or easy? Hell no.  Did I want to quit? A zillion times.  Was it worth it? FUCK YES.  I now feel like the person I was always meant to be, no longer uncomfortable in my own skin.  Importantly, normal doses of pharmaceuticals are more than sufficient to heal my affliction.  It is critical to point out, however,  that the extreme weight loss that I underwent is not necessary to combat this current issue.  For one who is obese, losing even 20-40 pounds significantly improves their health.  En masse, this modest amount of weight loss would render the need for more concentrated pharmaceuticals moot.

In conclusion, if you're fat and happy, more power to you!  If you're fat and unhappy, get off your ass and do something about it.  But under no circumstances is it acceptable for Americans alone to require this global impact to pharmaceutical manufacturing, a pricey enterprise which will unsteady our already crumbling economy.  All this because we've excused a cultural shift towards obesity as a nation; allowing it to define us a People.  Being fat is now accepted and defended to the detriment of the US societal reputation worldwide, and this new drug demand is an affirmation of that statement.

Thought of the Day 1/24/2013: Balance

Yesterday during my meditation I focused on 'Don't think; feel.'

I do this one fairly often because I almost always operate on pure logic and hard-core numbers, analyzing and over-analyzing until I hit rationality. This creates a substantial imbalance in my Body because while the Mind is thinking it also suppresses all feelings, which in turn presents itself as an increase in anxious and irrational thoughts usually regarding weight control, calorie counting and over-excercise; thus my 'eating disorder not otherwise specified.'  This is my crux, the go-to reaction of my Mind when it is stressed.  Everyone has something they turn to in this way.  When it's drugs and alcohol, they are called addicts; when its video games, they are called nerds.

Anyway, having worked through 'The Steps' the origin of my reliance on logic is as clear as day: My childhood and a deeply inlaid fear of abandonment causes my Mind to do anything in its power to avoid emotional pain, so it dives into the consoling realm of non-emotional logic.  So long as I can find the logic in a situation, it is manageable.  I have consequently honed formidable analytical thinking skills, looking for the logical pipeline underlying all things such as sets of data/numbers, social interactions or even driving routes, and it has been the key to my success.  Still, I often over-analyze and obsess over things while also ignoring my emotional feelings, and this causes the issues I detailed previously; it also makes me quite Bitchy.

So, what's the point of sharing this? One, if I hadn't worked 'The Steps' (or at least the first 8, I'm still not done and may never be) this fundamental origin of my anxiety and 'disorder' would have never came to light.  One must dig up the dirt to haul it away, and no matter how painful this can be, trust me, its worth the trouble.  More importantly, without this information one justifies self-pity instead of taking responsibility for their personal flaws and striving towards self improvement.

Two, this morning it occurred to me that there must be people who experience the opposite conundrum; they rely almost exclusively on their emotions and throw caution to the wind, not contemplating the rationality of the situation.  Likely these people will have had parents who were emotionally isolated and/or isolating (pure speculation, admittedly).  Indeed, when I thought about it further I became convinced it must be true; how many idiotic, even dangerous, things have people done because they were acting on raw emotions such as fear, rage and/or elation?

The key is balance; and it's something I'll be working on for the rest of my life.

Thought of the Day 1/21/2013: The Significance of Silence

Though not a novel concept, the significance of silence has unique meaning to everybody, and today I had a surprising epiphany regarding my own feelings on this concept.  Anyone who has been in a room with me for over two minutes knows that I'm a talker; I can find something to say about any subject.  I have been both blessed and burdened with a profoundly sociable and extroverted personality.  The extent to which this very attribute currently weighs on my mind is forthcoming in a resolution article entitled "The Year of the Filter."

Yet this precisely explains my surprise because, to me, the things in this life that have silenced me are without a doubt the most fundamental lessons I have learned, despite their true meanings eluding me 99% of the time.  I know now that when I have nothing to say about a subject, and cannot otherwise articulate my feelings and/or memories, I'm facing something that will, or has, impact(ed) my Soul.  No human words can describe what I suspect to be miracles in everyday life, but since many of these miracles take the form of fear and pain as well as wonder and joy, many people simply write them off as bad and good luck, respectively.

Here are just a few examples in my life; thoughts, feelings and memories that, when addressed, I simply have no way to describe what my Mind and Body experience.

-  The way I feel about my nephew Quinton; there is something fundamentally awe-inspiring about his personality.

Quinton with the Aristocats I got him for Christmas

-  Memories of my Germany/Denmark/Sweden trip; the true meaning of my experiences during those 3 weeks can never be explained.

Berlin Cathedral

Lake Alpsee, Fussen Germany

-  The emotional pain of breaking up with my first, and only, boyfriend/fiancé. [Sorry, I'm not up for posting a picture, just take my word for it.]

-  The euphoria of running.

1/2 Marathon!

-  Gratitude towards my true friends. [Sorry, can't post pictures of them all!]

Me and Fancy Nancy

Hiking Mt Democrat with my Boulder Boys

-  The fear that grips me when I think of beginning another romantic relationship, or of eating a piece of cake.

Yummmm, but No!

-  The humbling insignificance provoked by looking out over the Continental Divide atop a 14,000 foot peak in the Rockies.

Pike's Peak

-  The tears that non-emotionally flowed over my cheeks while listening to my favorite Cure song live at Red Rocks.

-  Last but not least, the initial thought that spawned this entire article: How I feel about the house in which I live; its location, the way the sun heats the porch no matter the time of day, its proximity to the social epicenter of McPherson and its porch-view, the way the floor creaks when I get up to piss 4 times a night, sitting in the breakfast nook and writing on my blog.  I love this house and I'm not ready to give up on owning it.

Home

I Choose Love

I Choose Love
Indiscriminately
Non-Judgementally
I Choose Love
Powerfully
Emotionally
I Choose Love

Thought of the Day 1/14/2013: Ode to My Pup

7 Week Old Puppy Charlie

This morning I simply had to stop and appreciate my 5 year old Corgi, Charlie; short for Sir Charles Dartanian Spader [My Mother instilled in me the belief that AKC registered pure-breds must have ridiculous names, thus Sir Charles was christened].  Anyway, as I awoke at 4:40am for my morning workout but without illustrating signs of life past noiselessly opening my eyes, Charlie had shook himself awake in giddy anticipation of my arousal from bed.  I got up and he gingerly greeted me, hopped a couple of times then ran for one of his bones or toys to bring me as a morning treat to trip upon.  That's when it occurred to me: I am the most interesting thing that will happen to Charlie today; and even though the same is true of everyday he never seems to get sick of me.

Further proof of this phenomena is illustrated by the way he greets me upon my arrival and incessantly follows me into whatever room I chose to inhabit.  I'm continually amazed at how he always knows when I'm about to walk through the door.  In fact, it would seem that he knows the sound of my car door shutting.  I believe this because while in Colorado I would leave our third-story balcony door open and everyday as I shut the car door I heard the tags on his collar rattle, a sure sign that he's getting up from his pillow to greet me.

No matter where I'm returning from and no matter how long I've been gone, it's always the same; he literally gets so overcome with joy at seeing me that he sometimes pisses all over himself.  I've often thought 'Wow, I wished I got that excited over seeing ANYONE.'  Forget that I'm the same person who repeatedly yells at him, doesn't pet or play ball with him as often as he deserves, and kicks him when he gets under my feet.

Despite how I feel or act he's always there for me, with that goofy Charlie smile [beautifully illustrated above].  He makes me laugh harder than most simply by hopping in the snow like a bunny rabbit and submersing his head in it while shitting, and best of all, howling like a full-on wolf anytime he hears sirens.  He can read me better than any human I know, when to give me a wide berth and when it's ok to cuddle.  And so I send love to my Little-Man, for whom I truly am grateful.  But I am still more grateful for the fact that he's a forgiving pooch instead of a real child, for it he were, I would have surely fucked him up royally.

Thought of the Day 1/10/13: Fixing Humanity Begins With Eliminating the Assholes

It's about to get real up in here, so prepare.  I'm about to go all Stuart Smalley on your asses; well, if he were as brutally honest as I am.

I was rounding mile six of my run the other morning when I noticed, out of my peripheral-TV-vision, some ecstatic hate-monger holding a 'Stop Abortion Now!' sign.  Now, I'll own that I am Pro-Choice on this particular issue; but after reading what I have to say I sincerely hope it will make you think and consider your own position on any topic that provokes the judgement of others, their choices and actions.

The instant I saw this guy yelling and screaming and generally acting like a complete lunatic, so impregnated (no pun intended) with hate was he, I thought 'Wow, what in his own head, heart and Soul is he running from so desperately that he's decided to devote his life to the judgment of other people's actions instead of his own?'  That's right, I'm proposing and staunchly believe that any person so devoted to a judgmentally-oriented cause; be it gun control, religion, pro-life/choice, politics, sports, education, baking, anti-butt-f*^#ing, etc., is simply avoiding one thing: Their own internal issues.

After all, faced with battling your own demons it is astonishingly more compelling to judge the actions of others.  When you focus on the deficiencies and problems of others, yours magically disappear; right? Suddenly your life doesn't seem so bad, your unhappiness slightly less pronounced.  You know your making the right decisions because you see nothing but others making the wrong decisions.  These are blatant lies we have all fed ourselves.  Unfortunately, the disappearing act is actually the absorbance of our deepest, darkest, fears and insecurities; and left repressed to our sub-conscious, they typically present themselves subtly in our everyday lives as depression, anxiety, addiction and bouts of extreme road-rage and puppy-kicking.

Furthermore, what makes people think they can successfully manage the life of another?  This isn't The Sims people; we are piss-on humans and don't get to play God in the lives of others.  How can that man say, with 100% certainty, that the girl entering the abortion clinic would be better off keeping the baby or adopting it once its born?  He doesn't; he simply can't know what keeping that child would do to either of their lives.  No one can say what the right choice is for someone else concerning any issue. Period.  Perhaps she'll later regret her choice; maybe she'll come to think it was the best decision she had ever made.  Either way it is hers, and hers alone, to make.

The kindest act that one human can do for another is simply give them the freedom to do what they personally feel is the best plan-of-action for them, sans judgement.  Will it blow up in their face? Likely.  But if/when it does, at least they can be certain that they have no one to blame but themselves; no one forced that decision on them.  They are then forced to take full responsibility for those actions, which affords an invaluable personal growth experience; painful though it may be.  

NOTE: I'm only picking on the issue of abortion because its one of the most controversial and widely understood.  Please take this concept a step further, however, and draw parallels to any instance where you find yourself adversely judging someone's decisions and actions.  Ask yourself why it makes you feel that way; dig deep to the source as it's likely been buried by years of repression.  What might you be avoiding in your own life, past, present and/or future, that sparks such a feeling on dis-like, or even hatred.  A better Humanity starts with you; now stop being such as asshole!

Thought of the Day 1/5/2013: Don't Drink and Fly

While listening to Good Morning America and enjoying some oatmeal before Spin Class, I heard yet another story about an airline pilot attempting to fly a plane drunk.  The anchor asked "What would make a pilot think they can fly intoxicated?" My immediate answer was another question, "What makes any ordinary person think they can drive their car drunk?"  In both cases, it is motivated by precisely the same thing; it's an action so accustomed too that the person assumes they can do it loaded.  Still more, if the person is drinking 'at work' as a pilot about to fly 50+ people to their destination, they are very likely an alcoholic and live under the disillusioned premise that they are not too drunk to be functional.  In this instance its more likely they think they fly better with a couple of drinks under their belt, kind of like bowling.

They followed their report with this fun fact: The legal Blood Alcohol Content (BAC) limit for a pilot is 0.04.  This is half the legal limit for driving, an average of two drinks for a full-grown male.  My BAC would likely soar to 0.04 simply by looking at a glass of wine; an assumption I plan to test tonight.  Now, as painful as it my be, let's apply some logic to this situation and re-ask the former question.  "What would make a pilot think they can fly intoxicated?" Maybe it's because there's a LEGAL F*$%ING BAC LIMIT FOR PILOTS.  Give a kid a piece of candy, then tell them not to eat it all at once.  Be sure to let me know how that worked out in the long run.  I'm not an alcoholic, but even I experience that longing for a second drink after the first gave me to warm-tingles.  If one is good, two is better, and passed out is best!  But wait, who's going to fly the plane while the pilot's sleeping off his buzz?

Here's the mind-blowingly simple solution: If it's illegal to drive a car or fly a plane past a certain BAC, there shouldn't be a limit at all.  Zero Tolerance.  Black and white, no guesswork, and then actually enforce it.  Now there's a concept!  I won't go into how many hundreds of people have been killed by repeat DWI offenders, but I will assure you it's significant.  

The only reason people raise such a fuss about airline pilots in this state is because they endanger the lives of a plane full of people, while getting paid, and they're doing it half- or maybe even fully- cocked.  It is simply irrational, however, to apply this to pilots without doing the same for motor vehicle drivers.  Though not necessarily doing it on the job, their capacity for injuring themselves or others is actually significantly higher given the other cars on the road and the limit of control they need to effectively operate the car.  By comparison, if a pilot can get the plane off the ground, their job is pretty much done until landing and their also not as likely to inadvertently serve into another plane's patch of sky.  True, if a plane crashes on the runway due to a drunk-as-a-skunk pilot it's likely that most people onboard will die, perhaps 30-60 people depending on the flight.  Given this estimated number I was interested to see how many people die due to drunk drivers in the US; 27 DAILY.  Sobering statistic indeed.

I hope it's clear that I'm not condoning drunk flights to Vegas for everyone onboard including the cockpit.  I believe that the same rules should apply to all operators of motor/jet vehicles: NO DRINKING. PERIOD.  What I'm about to say will likely seem extremely odd, but my sister died in an alcohol-related car accident 4 days after her 25th birthday, and I thank God everyday that she was the only person involved in the crash.  She could have taken any amount of people out with her.  Taking the life of another, under any circumstance, is an unnatural act that leaves a scar so deep it effects the Soul even if it no longer resides in this world.  I do not judge those that drive with 1, or even 7, drinks in their gut; but I fully expect them to deal with the consequences of their actions should they get caught by the Fuzz or, even worse, cause an accident.  Myself included.

Oh, and if you're about to get on a plane and the guy who smells like piss and rum sitting next to you has a pair of tiny wings on the lapel of his white collared shirt; take the next flight.

Thought of the Day 1/1/2013: The Dual-Capacity Proletariats

On this arbitrarily assigned reset day I, like so many others, find myself contemplating goals, ambitions and general projections for the year ahead; and in light of my new location and its ardent inhabitants, I find myself a bit overwhelmed yet prepared for the challenge.  Living here serves as the ultimate motivation to both work and play; practice my scientific mind at Hospira, while also dabbling in my creative interests as a writer and aspiring yogi. 

The first thing I noticed about McPherson, Kansas is that each person maintains dual societal functions.  People do both what brings in revenue to pay bills and also what they enjoy on the side, which typically augments the aforementioned funds.  Here are just a few examples: My Realtor also owns a lawn mower shop with her husband, the man who painted my house also drives truck, the woman who opens the YMCA at 5am is also a county appraiser, the guy who teaches my spin class also sells real estate, one of the comic book store co-owners also own a mattress store with his wife, the owner of the Super Wal-Mart also sits on the Main Street Board dedicated to preserving, and ensuring the success of, local businesses.  Even within Hospira one will find aspiring screen play authors, athletes and experimental chefs, an EH&S expert who co-owns one of the local bars and a validation engineer who DJs in his spare time. [These last two people are instrumental for planning a 'Hospira' night at said bar.]  Furthermore, I became better acquainted with most of these people, even the Hospira employees, while exercising and enjoying my time at the local YMCA; one of the staples of McPherson society, community, and undoubtedly another reason for the general vivacity within the population.  [I trust I've already beaten 'The Exercise is Good for You' horse to death.]

I must admit my bias here as I was eager for change, a new location and community with which to connect.  In many ways I see what I want to see, only the positive, turning a blind-eye to more adverse aspects of small town living; but this is a personal choice made by all individuals.  Also, I am naturally extroverted, which makes it easy for me to converse and connect with new people.  There are undoubtedly many people who would express copious amounts of pessimism with regards to McPherson, for various reasons.  My steadfast belief remains, however, that the natural zeal for expressing professionalism on a bi-directional plane, the 'Work hard, Play Hard' demeanor, has established and maintained the affable community in which I deem myself a fully integrated resident.  Subconsciously, it drew me here from afar to live out my own multidisciplinary initiatives.

Our Bustling Little Metropolis [Link to Actual Size]

I desire to be both a successful pharmaceutical industry professional and experiential writer, while perhaps also teaching Yoga and Pilates classes from my home.  These profoundly diverse elements, though serving Body, Mind and Soul, can often create friction in my being rather than harmony.  When I over-indulge one and leave the others lacking, my stress levels rise.  I become unhappy and experience overarching anxiety; the next thing I know I'm kicking my dog or yelling at children, none of which are acceptable in the background of this congenial environment.  This is a universal phenomena whether people realize it or not, and no matter how the depression and/or anxiety presents itself.  The Vocation vs The Hobby, balancing one's wants and needs are critical to ensure one's happiness, and more importantly, optimism.  McPherson is teeming with hard-working, generous, artisans who have come as close to perfecting this balance as I've ever observed, and it's truly inspiring.  They have prospered from this success, to the benefit of the town's atmosphere and population.  I am honored to call this place my home and these assiduous people my friends and neighbors.  Most importantly, I look forward to awakening my inner potential and resulting opulence by cultivating a well-rounded, successful and fulfilled Spirit; fueled by the actuating winds of my new habitat.