Tag: alcohol

True Story

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Loving family? Fun party? Seething resentment? Monumental discomfort? Let’s take a look.

The Cast (left to right):

Mildred Lorraine Palmer Gough Tebbs (there will be three more last names added to that string before she takes her final bow). Also known as my maternal grandmother. She’s probably 42 in this photo. She’s feisty, out-spoken, opinionated, prefers men to women in all cases and loves a good cocktail.

Paul Tebbs, my grandfather and stepfather to my mother, although she will always consider him her true father. He is a man of few words and will speak up only when it will benefit someone else. He’s an engineer by day and raises cattle for fun on the weekends. He loves  good cigars, which will eventually kill him. He’s 48 here.

My mother. Helen Louise Gough Tebbs Grimes. She believed she was controlled by her domineering mother until she met my father, who ripped the puppet strings right out of Mildred’s hands. Although, while everyone was still alive the mastery would pass back and forth between hands. She’s creative, talented and beautiful, but it’s not enough. She taught herself to like scotch but would prefer a glass of wine. She’s about 22 here. And I’m probably 11 minutes old.

Donald Earl Grimes, about 36 in this photo. Too intelligent for anyone’s good, charming, sarcastic with a side of mean, always right and incredibly artistically talented. And married. Not to my mother. With three daughters. Of which I am the youngest and the only one belonging to my mother. Oh, and he also loves a good cocktail.

I have no idea what occasion would put them all in such close proximity, but I would almost guarantee a minimum of one high ball each has been had. If gin is involved things will begin to deteriorate rapidly. My grandfather will begin to play interference and eventually guide my grandmother out the door or to bed. My mother will tug at my father’s pant leg or laugh, tilt her head and then say, we really should be  going, or it’s getting late, but her words will evaporate before they reach the sensible part of his brain. The situation may escalate, words spat with enough venom to start a revolution. But there will be no apologies the next day or the next time they’re all in the same room. It never happened. And it will happen again.

Even so, I love this photo. For what it says as much as for what it hides.

Instagram didn’t invent The Brightside, it just offers a few more filters.

Things Are Getting Weirder Before They Get Clearer

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To say that the mind is a prankster is an understatement. Just when I thought I had things figured out, just when I was sure what my overall first goal of this year was going to be, things got a little squirrely. But this is a familiar pattern. This is the ego trying to save itself and this time, I’m onto it early.

I am still clear on the Health Goal, but that insidious naysayer is tugging at my resolve with comments like, “You’ve already tried all of this.” or “Good luck with that.” And asking questions like, “What about accepting everything as it is?” or “What makes you think this time is different?”

Sigh.

I don’t have really good answers. I do accept almost everything as it is. One has to be in acceptance of a situation before it can be changed. But I did say almost. There’s more work to be done.

I want to say that this time is different because I am different and more ready than I have been. But even typing that out felt a little bit like a sham. There’s more work to be done.

But here’s one thing that’s different: in my past attempts at achieving a goal (any really, but in particular one related to health) I would allow those questions to convince me that I had more thinking to do. I have to spend some time figuring things out. If I may, that’s bullshit.

What is needed is action. Of any kind. So, here’s how it’s unfolding and what I have done so far:

  • I stopped drinking alcohol. For about 2 weeks now, and probably not forever, but I understand the value of letting it go while my focus is on high energy and shiny happy health. Wine is my poison of choice and while a single glass of red wine is considered to be healthy, it glues me to the couch and makes me want to sleep in which is antithetical to the energy levels I seek.
  • I stopped eating meat. For about a week. I usually do well with some meat, but the older I get the less I seem to need and the more passionate I am about environmental sustainability and animal welfare, so we’ll see how I feel. (I also already don’t really do dairy or gluten, making food creativity high priority.)
  • I bought a new Fitbit (my second). Hopefully this charmer will encourage me to move more.
  • I have been erratically meditating for over a month and stretching about the same amount of time. It’s a start but it is far from enough. Consistency is key. By stretching I mean a mini yoga sesh. I used to promise myself I’d get to a class, but I’m onto that too. Now I knock out something, rather than nothing, and if I make it to class? Bonus.
  • I am nearly done with the book Finding Ultra by Rich Roll. It’s his memoir-ish odyssey to super fitness from alcoholic and I’m finding it way more inspirational than I expected. I mean, like now, I want to make a plan to do a moderately difficult hike on every continent. To the point of enlisting my brother and starting the research. And for good measure I found some awesome guided bike treks through Europe.

It seems if I connect my health goals with my love of travel I will stand a better chance of staying on track and it will validate the reasons why I want to be solar charged and plant powered. All good steps, not super organized or cohesive but I’m confident that will come as I persevere and keep the goal of energy, joy and now Machu Picchu, in my sights. Still, more work needs to be done.

Because: habits.