Stop Counting!

(Skip to the end for Giveaway Reminders!)

The woman in the advertisement is pleasant to the eye, and she’s staring at a cereal box counting calories while her husband is eating eggs and bacon.

Would you rather be a person who counts calories, carbs, protein, fiber, miles run, sets lifted…

more than you count your blessings?

I think a lot of us let what we are not and wish to be, or what we want to do, but “can’t” or “shouldn’t” interfere with recognizing and developing what we can.

This week, I’ve been attempting to challenge that parental critic in me that counts and scruntinizes everything. A colleague told me I looked too skinny, which fueled my sense of “shoulds” and counting. Did I get “enough”? In the market, I measured how much I should spend on a bottle of wine: “is this worth it?”

Yes, being responsible benefits us…until it interferes with the practice of embracing gracious wonder. 

We teach the children how measure, how to weigh.  We fail to teach them how to revere, how to sense wonder and awe. The sense for the sublime, the sign of the inward greatness of the human soul and something which is potentially given to all men, is now a rare gift.” – Abraham J. Heschel

I am enough, and really want to stop counting and measuring. You better believe I bought that wine.  I am so grateful that yoday at lunch, I will host a “P Party Poem Potluck” (Pics to follow!) Guests bring a poem to “swap” and a dish that starts with a P. I made homemade “hummus” potstickers with a peanut sauce.  Yum-o! And I’ll be leaving behind this wonderful poem by my favorite, Mary Oliver:  Red Bird Explains Himself

“Yes, I was the brilliance floating over the snow
and I was the song in the summer leaves, but this was
only the first trick
I had hold of among my other mythologies,
for I also knew obedience: bring sticks to the nest,
food to the young, kisses to my bride.
 But don’t stop there, stay with me: listen.
If I was the song that entered your heart
then I was the music of your heart, that you wanted and needed,
and thus wilderness bloomed that, with all its
followers: gardeners, lovers, people who weep
for the death of rivers.  
And this was my true task, to be the
music of the body.  Do you understand? for truly the body needs
a song, a spirit, a soul.  And no less, to make this work,
the soul has need of a body,
and I am both of the earth and I am of the inexplicable
beauty of heaven
where I fly so easily, so welcome, yes,
and this is why I have been sent, to teach this to your heart.” 

Giveaway Reminders: I haven’t heard back from the first winner, so there’s still time left for you to email me a pic and a recipe of a Meal you Love to Savor Solo (A ME Meal) and you can win a signed copy of Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant. Want a Clean, Fresh Face? Read this post on Allowing yourself, and post the link on your blog. Then email me and CC a friend about an experience this week where you ALLOWED yourself something. Cetaphil will give a product package to a random winner! Want some Protein Elevation? Check out my review, comment and subscribe for email updates and you might receive your own samples!


5 thoughts on “Stop Counting!

  1. Oh my gosh did you say “hummus potstickers”?!?! SIGN ME UP! Umm I really wish we lived close (and that you invited me) so that I could attend the P Party! I would bring a poem by Poe (love him…perhaps “Annabel Lee” :D) and some baked sweet Potatoes! let’s just say I’m attending in spirit! What a wonderful idea!
    Hope you have a great weekend,

  2. you pose a very good question…and it’s one I can’t answer…. I have been pondering this for a little time myself.

    my biggest challenge is getting OFF the dang scale. short of chucking it out the window, I am at a loss at how addicted I am to it!

    sad. it’s just a number.

    I love this post BTW. Very beautiful and thought provoking!

  3. What a beautiful poem! Thank you for sharing it.

    As for me, I need to stop counting birthdays, tiny wrinkles, and gray hairs. I need to stop fearing the aging process and learn to see the beauty in maturation. I’m not there yet, but hopefully I will be one day.

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