“When we come close to those things that break us down, we touch those things that also break us open. And in that breaking open, we uncover our true nature.” ~ Wayne Muller-

We have all been there, broken down.

Relationships end, people die, careers fail to thrive and moods change just like the seasons. Yet, we fight it. We find endings. We fight beginnings. We fight change. We put our boxing gloves on time and time again, and we enter the ring, ready to chase away that which threatens our status-quo.

Self preservation. I mean that is what we were all taught growing up, correct? Fight to maintain what is. Hold on. Don’t let go. Letting go means giving up. To let go we are forfeiting and no one likes a loser right? So we fight, ready to go down covered in bruises because we are so damn scared to walk away, to accept, to let go-even to those things that hurt us.

We crave predictability and certainty. There is something comforting in knowing that things will remain as we know them. But, there is also beauty in uncertainty; there is beauty in pain. There is beauty in letting go.

I have been forced to learn this lesson these past few months. I endured a painful breakup, one that left me feeling hurt, confused and full of questions. Someone I cared for deeply walked away from me. On top of that, in this past year, I noticed my eating disorder “voice” becoming louder and louder, without my recognition at the time.

My need for control spiraled, quite frankly, out of control. I spent countless hours in a panic and fighting to accept what was. I could not, would not, let go. And so I did what most do who have a history of disordered eating: I micromanaged my macronutrients. I did not want to face the facts; the relationship was over. And for better or for worse, this body was my body.

For those first few weeks, every song that came on the radio was a tug at my heartstrings. Simultaneously, every picture of my body from last year was a trigger to restrict my food intake. I wanted to get “back there.” I craved sameness. I kept looking to the past to give me the answers for the future. I started to obsess about how I used to eat so that I could shrink my body back to where it was.

I started to pick apart and examine every conversation as to what went wrong so that I would not make the same mistakes in my future. I resisted being where I was because where I was felt like sh*t. Past, future, past, future. I spun around and around, attached to this never-ending merry-go-round…it got me absolutely nowhere, but gave me plenty to do.

You see, every time we resist the present moment, we put our life on hold.

We keep placing our happiness out there, in some far away magical land where things line up the way we want. A land where our bodies reach that goal weight, we fall in love with our perfect person, land our dream job, purchase our first home.

I used to believe that happiness was all about crossing things off of my to-do list in order to reach a destination.

“Once I do this, then this will happen.” But life is not an algebraic equation. Life is messy and chaotic and beautiful and brutal. Life is falling in love and falling out of love. Life is losing weight and gaining weight. Life is losing yourself but finding yourself once again.

Life is now. 

One day it all clicked: a diet was not going to fix my heart. A diet was not going to make me fall in love with my body again. The only way to achieve those things was to be present and in it all, the good, the bad and the downright ugly. The only way to fully heal myself was to start small and find the beauty in every day again.

That hot cup of coffee in the morning began to take on new meaning. I found pleasure in the simple things—the sun shining on my face, the sound of laughter, the euphoria after a long run. I stopped waiting and I started living. I chopped my hair. I signed on as founder of Project HEAL—South New Jersey. I booked a vacation. I practiced hot yoga. I threw myself head first into planning my beautiful sister’s wedding. I started writing again. I started coaching women on eating disorder recovery.

I started to date—myself. I started loving my body. I stopped resisting.

Life is one big ebb and flow.

Through the cracks, a new Nicole began to emerge.

I have no damn clue what tomorrow brings. I can predict and plan all I want but all that does is force me to lose out on the beauty that is right in front of me. I learned that I must slow down enough to listen and be still. I had to be willing enough to get uncomfortable and stop fighting today. I had to sit with the discomfort, sit with the sadness and wait for it to pass, knowing it will return, and being okay with it’s return. I had to start doing things differently. I had to start listening to my body vs. countless plans.

I had to be open to change, knowing that it was leading me to something magical. It was and is, in those moments of uncertainty, those moments where we have no fricken idea where life is going to lead us, which we begin to shine.

The other night, a friend called me up and invited me out for ice cream. It was 7:00 pm. I had just left hot yoga and I hadn’t eaten dinner yet. The old program ran through my head.

“Nicole, you can’t eat ice cream before dinner or even worse (gasp) for dinner.” But just as quickly as the thought entered my head, it left.

Living presently means tuning in vs. tuning out. Did I want the ice cream for dinner? Um, yeah. Living presently has allowed me to no longer attach myself to the thoughts that flood into my brain. I hear it, I listen to it and I let that sh*t go. I no longer live by food rules that some “expert” deems appropriate for me. I am the expert; I get to make up my own rules now.

Is every day full of happiness and ease? Nope. But every day is full of whatever that day may bring. And that my friends, is beautiful.

A rap fan I am not, but sometimes ya just gotta Lean with it, rock with it.

 

 

Relephant: 

Here’s to the Girls with Messy Hair & Thirsty Hearts.

 

Author: Nicole Caruso

Editor: Catherine Monkman

Photo: Alex Naud/Flickr