Tuesday, February 2, 2016
I felt like I was in control of my eating for a few months. I would sit down for a meal, finish what was on my plate and not go fishing in my fridge for something more. Sometimes, I would even (gasp) leave a little food if I was full. I ate when I was hungry. I asked my body what it needed to eat instead of telling it. And now… I feel like my mojo is gone and I'd like to get it back somehow. You know when you’ve hit that smooth spot of weight loss, and whatever you're doing it's working, and you just want to bottle it for when you're in a rough patch? Anyone have some bottled mojo?!?!
There is nothing like those first couple of weeks on WW where you follow the plan to a “T” and the weight just melts off. That was some good mojo. I remember my first week and a half on Weight Watchers. I was an overweight teenager who had promised herself every summer that she would magically lose weight and suddenly everyone would look at her differently. Never happened... and you begin to feel like a failure after a while.
But after my first week and a half, I went down 6.8 pounds. I absolutely couldn't believe it. After they told me how much I had lost, I felt this strong sense of pride and relief and shock taking root in my chest. I felt tears forming, eager to flow down my cheeks with amazement and joy. I quietly took my seat grinning ear to ear. I had done it.
To think back on those moments actually makes me feel a little stronger right now. To remember how far I have come…to remember how much it meant to me to take control over my life.
This past Rosh Hashanah I talked about memory. There is a whole portion of the service called Zichronot (remembrances) devoted to remembering what God did for our ancestors. I introduced this section to the community with the following quote: “God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December (James M. Barrie).” Memory can be so powerful. We don't stop to reflect on our paths often enough to be witness to our own strength. We take successes for granted and setbacks as failures. Winters and summers come and go just like weight losses and gains. For everything there is a season. And when our mojo is frozen perhaps we need to reach back in our memories to sweet smelling moments of pride and success to last us until the winter thaws. And it will thaw. I have faith.
So… until Weight Watchers and Oprah figure out how to bottle mojo, I’ll rely memory.
Posted by Dahlia Bernstein at 9:31 PM