The Anti-Rant

I've decided I don't like rants. Recently I've begun to feel assaulted by rants. I realize there's no deliberate intent on the part of people delivering rants to wound me, but the negativity of the rants has an impact regardless, especially if the rants are being delivered by someone I respect and whose opinion I value. And modern social media makes it so, so easy to deliver those rants to a wide audience with the click of a mouse...

I rant myself. Frequently. But perhaps I now have a New Year's resolution: no more ranting. If I cannot take the time to gather my thoughts, corral my feelings, and construct a written or verbal expression of my opinion that is more substance than sting, then perhaps it's best not to express those thoughts at all, at least not publicly.

The emotion that drives rants is frustration, with anger bubbling not far beneath. What else drives rants? Lower-level consciousness: that is, the ego and arrogance/pride and an unrelenting hunger to be seen as "right" in the eyes of others.

I guess I could see these rants as a call for love and understanding, for that's most certainly what they are. I've found I really don't have the energy or need to rant when I open myself up and let go of the petty thoughts and smallness eating me that feels so HUGE in the moment. And when I can see the rants of others for what they are, it's hard not to feel pity for the messenger.

Rants don't HELP, nor do they serve ANYONE but the ranter. We sometimes arrogantly suppose or assume our rants should help, and we make all sorts of magnanimous statements about how "we only want to serve," but when statements like these are delivered within the context of a rant, they ring hollow. A rant is akin to turning a firehose on someone who is just thirsty; not only is the target not on fire, firehoses aren't meant to be used on people! A rant is ineffective, painful, and emotionally violent for those who are its target. It doesn't help, it doesn't soothe, it doesn't educate, and it most certainly won't facilitate any sort of healing, only disregard at best or defensiveness, even guilt,  at worst. Ultimately, the rant has nothing to do with a desire to help the target and everything to do with helping the ranter release pent up emotion.

So, yes, a rant does have a purpose. It's a great way to vent your emotions. It's a super way to expel/release what you've absorbed from those around you and from your environment. But the thing is, a rant SHOULD NOT have an audience. Yes, a rant can and usually does have a target, but, again, should never have an audience! Ranting is like going to the bathroom; it's something that should be done in private, behind closed doors, with the results being flushed away, out of sight and out of mind, where the stink will no longer bother anyone.

So I'm going to continue to rant, I guess. I suppose my New Year's resolution, therefore, needs to change a bit: I'll continue ranting, but privately. I'll keep those rants to myself or express them in writing and then delete them, getting rid of them forever and neutralizing any potential harm they could cause. Or if I do decide I need to speak out publicly about something, I'll spend a little time composing and editing to ensure what I put out there is intelligent, reasonable, and less hurtful than a stream of consciousness spewing forth of negative emotions tends to be.

Those of us professing a desire to serve and help really can benefit from opening our eyes and seeing our rants through the eyes of their targets.

Something has Happened: My Skin is Starting to Fit...

So, I got on the scale this past weekend. You must understand, I've only "used" the scale in the past few years to mark progress during contest prep. Then it gathers dust (and other things...) on the floor of the bathroom.

But I just decided the other morning to "woman up" and climb aboard.

Let me explain a bit about the lead up to all of this.

I'm not that hungry lately. Really. I mean, yeah, my appetite seems a little increased on leg day, but c'mon! We're talking about Abel leg training here. But whatever. This whole food thing both has and hasn't been my focus of late. I haven't "binged" since I can't remember when. I've eaten stuff that is not "food;" treats, sweets, junk out of boxes and bags, etc. But what's missing is the eyes-rolling-back-in-the-head, eat 'til it HURTS kind of thing like you do post-contest (and sometimes well beyond) when it feels like you can never get enough.

So why am I not very hungry? Well, for one thing, there's some emotional baggage gone out the cargo hold. Bye-bye. Adios. It's the kind of baggage that can pile up again if you let it; that's hot happening.

Why else? Well, I'm eating and paying attention. For the first time ever that I can remember. I sit, fork or spoon in hand, bowl or plate or plastic container in front of me, and focus on what's going into my mouth. Sounds simple doesn't it? It isn't. The first time I decided to make this change (no eating in front of the computer; no eating and reading; no eating in front of the TV; no eating while using the iPhone; no eating while driving), I actually forgot to do it. First thing in the morning after deciding to try this tactic, I nuked my oatmeal, sat down, and immediately cracked open a book on my Kindle. After a few bites, I went, "Holy crap. I can't believe how automatic it is to eat and zone out. Wow."

So what does the above have to do with not being hungry? Well, I can actually "hear" my body tell me when I'm full now. Sometimes it doesn't happen at all and I'm still hungry after my meal. And that's fine. I don't need to feel full after every meal. But sometimes I literally don't want to finish what I'm eating. And I don't. If I'm done, I'll put the rest away for later.

So what about those indulgent meals (the ones we choose, not the compulsions; those just don't happen anymore) and treats? Well, there's a different mindset with those now. Like when we went to the Stampede Grounds. The last few years, this annual outing has fallen very shortly after a contest for me, during my scheduled break, so touring the grounds is about eating as much of the crazy midway food as you can get in while you're there. I ate plenty, but I also did a lot of "tasting:" a bite of this, a taste of that, instead of one for David, one for me, repeat, repeat, repeat.

So what do weekends look like? Well, not a free for all. Sometimes hotdogs cooked over our firepit followed up by S'mores; sometimes steak and salad and a couple of brew; sometimes not crazy different from during the week.

So back to the scale thing. Well, as I said, I just decided that I was going to hop aboard. No emotion; no dread. Mid morning. Not "dry" like we love to do before sending pics to Scott. I'd had some coffee and my normal liter or so of water. And I was dressed. Yes, fully dressed!

So why is this a big deal for me? Because I was kind of shocked by what the dial said. It was a lot lower than I was expecting. And what made it even more surprising was that the weekend before we were at the Stampede Grounds, the week following was not entirely "clean" in terms of how I normally eat (and included a goodbye meal for one of my work team who is going on mat leave, which I didn't finish but thoroughly enjoyed), and I weighed myself on a Sunday after the aforesaid night of hotdogs and S'mores with the kids, of which I enjoyed plenty.

So what's going on here? Well, food is losing its emotional hook for me. I am tuning into my body and its biological/metabolic needs. I'm "hearing" its messages for the first time ever. And while it may not seem like it, I'm hardly thinking of food at all if I'm not actually eating it or preparing it, and when that's happening, I'm focused on just being present.

I guess this is working for me.

So what's next? I don't know. If I tighten things up a bit, those quad blasts and pullups will feel a whole lot different. That could be fun.

But for now, I'm fine with putting the scale back to use, paying attention to my life, and just letting things happen.