Thursday, December 24, 2020

December 24th, 2020 Reflection: A Christmastime Update

December 24th, 2020 Reflection: A Christmastime Update

I'm just a lurker (for about ten years). But I feel deeply invested in your well-being and the success of you and your family. Post a blog, or a tweet, or something. Your Mom's covid diagnosis is a terrible thing, and I am almost very concerned about how you are. --Chris in California

After reading your blog faithfully since the summer of 2010, I'm concerned about your recent absence. You once wrote how if you ever decided to stop writing it, it likely wouldn't be a good thing. You've written about being more involved with your recovery and that's great, but as a reader here, it's a mystery. You don't owe me anything. Your writings have often inspired me and things you've shared have had a positive impact on me and my life. Thank you for that. Just a concerned reader here. I know you don't know me, but after a decade of following you, I feel like I know you. I miss you. I pray you're doing okay. --Natalie in Alaska

I wrote to you four years ago. Your thoughtful email to me helped in ways you wouldn't believe. I don't know what's going on, but I sure do miss reading your blog. I hope you're doing okay. --John in NYC

November 1st was your last blog entry? Really?? I was certain to find a post around Thanksgiving, nope! I get being busy. But something, a paragraph--a few words? Are you done writing? If yes, thank you for what you did share over the years. I hope you're not done. --Talia in Minnesota

I have immense gratitude for the many messages of love and support that have come my way. Thank you. I've been blessed beyond measure with love, kindness, and caring and sometimes it's hard to accept. Perhaps my reluctance is a reflection of the lack of love, kindness, and caring I give to myself. Don't get me wrong, I give myself just enough to make it through one more day--and that's really a personal spiritual struggle, isn't it? I do my best to not take things personally, good or bad. 

One of the things I've connected with in deep ways along this road is humility. When I write "I don't got this," you know what I mean, right? My ego will straight up kill me if I spend more time connecting with it instead of connecting with the spiritual practices and principles of my continued recovery. The answer, I believe, is found somewhere in a balance of humility and a healthy ego. Mike Tyson was once asked if he still trains every day and he said no, because "it activates my ego, and that gets me in trouble." I never expected to relate to Mike Tyson, but I get it.

Rather than a long list of excuses as to why I've been absent from the pages of this blog, I'd prefer to get straight to the heart of the matter: The more connected I've become with recovery, the more I recognize how my ego and self-will can quickly intercept and set me off on a trajectory away from the very evolution promising to deliver me into better ways of life. If my ego is driving the car, I'll miss the exit, every time. If you've read this blog for any amount of time, you know I've often written about how this is all about much more than the physical transformation. I'm no longer a 500-pound man and yes, I live in a healthy weight range to this day--but truly, the physical parts of this transformation aren't anywhere near the most important parts. A daily reprieve from the obsession of food addiction/compulsive overeating--and the peace, calm, and serenity that comes with that humble focus is the pursuit and it doesn't start with my food plan, it starts on my knees each morning. The physical transformation is simply a reflection of that work.

I'm pledging to recommit to keeping this blog more current. I pray for guidance as I make my way forward, using it as the accountability and support tool it was meant to be from Day 1.

There's a lot happening right now. We recently lost my dear Aunt Connie. It was unexpected heart issues that took her way too young. She was my mom's aunt despite being two years younger than mom. She was my great aunt, the mom of my cousin Steve. Steve and I grew up together. Aunt Connie made regular pre-Covid visits along with Aunt Margaret. They'd come up and take mom out to lunch and visit a good long time. Aunt Connie will be missed. I must say, my cousin Steve's calm faith through it all really inspires me. I know someday that day will come for me. 

My precious mom has Covid-19. When I received this news a week ago, I was overcome with a sick feeling. Considering her respiratory struggles the last several years, it seemed to be the worst possible thing. Tragic, too, just days away from receiving the vaccine--and after ten months of her successfully dodging this nasty and mysterious illness. However, she is making it through in miraculous ways. Her oxygen saturation remains high, she received the antibody infused plasma transfusion, and the worst symptom for her is a deep cough. The outpouring of prayers and support for mom has been much appreciated and it's making a huge positive difference. I share the messages and prayers with her and it always lifts her spirits. I'm grateful. Thank you.

Aside from the important behind the scenes recovery work in my life, I have maintained my MyFitnessPal logging and the food accountability postings on Instagram. Those daily commitments remain constant.

Our holiday gatherings are much smaller, for obvious reasons, and that's okay. This period we're all living through will pass. There's hope. Thank you for reading. You're invited along as I continue writing this blog that has given me so much over the last twelve years. I appreciate your support.

I hope you have a safe, warm, and very Merry Christmas.

Thank you for reading,

Sean

A few pics from the last couple of months...

This was a screen shot from a recent video chat 
with mom from the Covid-19 ward. That smile says a lot.

























Riding bikes and jumping on a trampoline with Noah-two beautiful gifts this transformation gives me.















Quality time with my youngest daughter, Courtney. The two of us are very close and that, too, is a precious gift of this daily recovery practice.  







Copyright © 2008-2020 Sean A. Anderson

The Daily Diary of a Winning Loser. All rights reserved.