you aren’t delicate
you aren’t romantically sad
or poetically broken
you are just a sick little girl
with your head in the toilet
and scratches on your wrists
Truth: I wish someone would have been brave enough to say this to me when I was sick. There’s nothing glamorous about your pain. And whilst you’re protecting your illness with everything you have, everyone else is moving on with their lives. Life won’t stop for you.
We’re so wrapped up in our running that we’re afraid to take a day off, run less, run slower, or, heaven forbid, take a walk on days our bodies tell us we’re not recovered enough for our “usual” workout. We’re afraid someone will think less of us as a runner; we’re afraid we’ll think less of ourselves. And, backing off at all scares us that we’ll become less of a runner than we believe we are, than we have already set ourselves up to be.— Jonathan Beverly, Editor’s Note (via vulgarocean)
Cakes have gotten a bad rep. People equate virtue with turning down dessert. There is always one person at the table who holds up her hand when I serve the cake. “No, really, I couldn’t,” she says, and then gives her flat stomach a conspiratorial little pat. Everyone who is pressing a fork into that first tender layer looks at the person who declined the plate, and they all think, “That person is better than I am. That person has discipline.”
But that isn’t a person with discipline; that is a person who has completely lost touch with joy. A slice of cake never made anybody fat. You don’t eat the whole cake. You don’t eat a cake every day of your life. You take the cake when it is offered because the cake is delicious. You have a slice of cake and what it reminds you of is some place that’s safe, uncomplicated, without stress. A cake is a party, a birthday, a wedding. A cake is what’s served on the happiest days of your life. This is a story of how my life was saved by cake, so, of course, if sides are to be taken, I will always take the side of cake.—
This is a very symbolic and essentialist reading of cake that I’d never thought of…and I like it.(via progressiveresistance)
HEALTHY VEGAN GLUTEN-FREE LENTIL, CARROT AND SPINACH BURGER RECIPE
- small cup of lentils
- handful of spinach
- 1 onion
- 2 carrots
- 1 chilli
- 1 garlic
- loads of herbs!
Start off by putting the lentils on to cook, once they are simmering away start chopping and grating the onion, chilli, garlic and carrots. Heat up a frying pan with a little oil and add the chopped and grated goods. This is a good time to start with some seasoning, as the carrot and onion can soak it all up wonderfully. Add any spices that tickle your fancy, personally I like quite a lot of coriander, chilli powder, cumin, turmeric, smoky paprika powder and some salt and pepper. By the time you have fried this all up, the lentils should be lovely and soft, so drain and rinse and spoon into a food processor, add as much spinach as you like and blend until the mixture is smooth. This is what will bind your burger.
Now to the fun and messy part: Combine the carrot and onion mixture with the lentil mixture in a bowl and get your hands dirty! Start scooping out small handfuls of the mix and shape into patties on a board covered in chickpea flour, or whatever flour you have lying around at home. Once all patties are shaped, start heating up the frying pan with a splash of oil. Make sure the oil is hot to create a crispy burger crust and start frying. Et voilà, enjoy!
P.s. You can make a large batch of these and freeze them. Ideal for your packed lunch sandwich, simply combine in a pitta bread (available gluten-free) with fresh rocket and hummus.
I love living alone. Fridge full of fruit, veg and yoghurt. (The beers not mine… Blame my mother for deciding I should have it in my fridge…)
Oh my lanta, those veggie pots… NOM! I currently have two in my fridge #guilty #studentfridge
SHE LET GO
— Written by Ernest Holmes (1887 – 1960)
Without a thought or a word, she let go.
She let go of the fear.
She let go of the judgments.
She let go of the opinions swarming around her head.
She let go of the committee of indecision within her.
She let go of all the “right” reasons.
Wholly and completely, without hesitation or worry, she just let go.
She didn’t ask for advice.
She didn’t read a book on how to let go.
She just let go.
She let go of all the memories that held her back.
She let go of all the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.
She let go of all the planning and all the calculation, about how to do it just right.
In the space of letting go, she let it all be.
A smile came over her face.
A light breeze blew through her.
And the sun and moon shone forever more.
Warning: personal content
I’ve been having a really tough time with my body and my relationship with food recently.
Funny how that is such a tough thing to admit. Like if I admit that I’m struggling then I’ve somehow failed.
It’s been five years since I was first diagnosed. Four since I started recovery. Some days are fine; some days I’m nearly what I would classify “healthy”, mentally and physically. And then some days are not so great. Some days I’m full of turmoil.
Lately I just seem to be punishing my body with food. Filling it with foods when I’m stressed, uptight, wound up… anything. I’ve gone back to using food as a weapon to the point that the idea of it makes it cringe, and I’d do anything to avoid eating. The problem is that I can’t avoid food. If I even slightly try to avoid it, the rabbit hole will open up from beneath me and I will sink back down to a world that I’ve tried so hard to forget. Because starvation is addictive.
So what do I do? I guess try to fumble my way back to a better point of recovery. I need to remember to honour my body, to cherish it. I need to remember that no matter what, there is no such thing as a ‘perfect body’, no matter what society says.
I need to remember that food is there to heal me, to fuel me. Food is not there for me to use as a form of abuse; and it is not an emotional object.
But most of all I need to remember that recovery is not a destination but is simply a process of healing. My relationship with food will always be my achilles heel, and once I’ve made peace with that, maybe the rest will fall into place.
- Learn to make fresh pesto and fresh tomato pasta sauce. Another grand step to leaving processed food behind.
- Journal for 10 minutes each night. This used to be a huge part of my life and it has fallen by the wayside.
- Tell Jake something I love about him everyday. Speak now.
- Even when life gets a bit crazy, remember to run a minimum of three times a week. This means that I’ll keep in a routine which is where I find my running happy place.
- Do a bible study with Jake once a week.
- Take more pictures.
Better late than never!