There’s a background story to today’s list, and I feel compelled to share it. I posted the above picture last week to both Facebook and Instagram, with the caption,

Midday snack cause my 2nd breakfast lasted a long time so I skipped lunch but won’t quite make it to dinner. Every time I eat a banana, I still think “fuck you, Dr. A.” (who told me I shouldn’t be eating bananas because they have too many carbs).

If you’ve been reading this blog for very long, you’ve heard the story of Dr. A.  You know that I was a disordered eater for 30+ years and had a long term abusive relationship with myself, and all the work I’ve done to heal those things. You know I’d rather be fat for the rest of my life than go back to living that particular hell. You know how I feel about the importance of fat acceptance and how strongly I believe in the Health at Every Size movement. You might have also figured out I don’t like being told what to do.

On Facebook, there clearly was one person who didn’t know any of this about me. I accepted her friend request on Facebook a few weeks ago because she is part of one of my spiritual communities. I almost ignored her request because even though we clearly share some practices and philosophical beliefs, she listed herself as a “weight loss coach.” I knew there was the potential for a problem, but decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. I shouldn’t have. In response to the picture and caption above, she posted the comment, “How many carbs are in those muffins? That snack needs more protein.”

I wish I could say that I replied in a skillful way, one that was kind but made it clear I didn’t need her to comment on what I chose to eat, but I didn’t. I threw a little fit in my own mind, told her off in the secret space of my own head, unfriended and blocked her, and then deleted the comment from my page. What I meant to say was…

1. Truth: Don’t give advice unless someone asks you for it directly. This applies to people you know well as equally as it does to people you don’t know anything about. It is true even if you just so happen to be an expert on a subject, particularly skilled or knowledgeable. Unless someone asks you “what do you think I should do?” or requests your help, stay out of it.

2. Truth: Unsolicited advice is at best rude and at worst an act of aggression. No one asked you. To get involved, assert your beliefs as right, true, and correct, to demand that someone else with a completely different experience comply with your direction — especially when you don’t know their whole story — isn’t helpful. In fact, you might actually be doing harm.

3. Truth: Don’t tell me what to do. People want to be heard, they want the space and support to figure out stuff for themselves. If you can’t help but go around telling other people what to do, maybe take a look at yourself, and focus on fixing what you find there.

One wish: May we trust other people to find their own truths, may we stay out of their way as they do their own work, and may we show up ready to help when we are invited.

P.S. I’ve written about this before.

Moon over the Poudre River on our morning walk

1. Truth: This week has been a mix of good and bad. Amy Krouse Rosenthal died on Tuesday. A friend’s dog died on Wednesday. Sam got his teeth cleaned today, which meant going under anesthesia so now he feels weird and is whining and following me everywhere, making me sad for him. I’ve been able to go on the regular morning walks, started Pilates, and will start working with a new physical therapist tomorrow. I’ve felt extra tired all week too. I’m equal parts energized and worn out, both at ease and discontent.

2. Truth: I’d planned to get a lot done this week, but haven’t been able to do much. I’ve had to pay close attention to my energy, to balance my effort with ease. It’s practically Thursday and I feel like there’s so much left to accomplish — and yet I’m okay with sitting in the sun or taking another nap and not getting anywhere near “caught up,” whatever that even means.

3. Truth: This is how life goes. Ebb and flow, feeling at times on top of it and other times buried by it. I can’t stop thinking about what I read the other day, something that Amy Krouse Rosenthal’s editor said about her: “Amy ran at life full speed and heart first.” When I go, I want someone to say that about me, but I also know that to do that, I have to be smart, know my limits, take care, pace myself.

One wish: May we be gentle with ourselves even as we run at life full speed and heart first, and when we go, may we know we are loved and may our deaths be easy.