Tag: lifestyle

Health & Lifestyle · Healthy Habits · Mental Health · Minimalism

Reflections on My No Buy Month

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

The house is a mess today. I’ve decided there’s nothing wrong with that and I don’t plan on cleaning much. Maybe tomorrow. And that’s a hard maybe.

Yesterday was tough. February’s been a little tough so far, actually, but I think I’ve walked into some realizations, some signs marking the next turnoff to get back on the right track. I’ve got the GPS volume turned up high so I don’t miss it!

I completed my no shopping challenge with success in January and welcomed February with relief. I think I threw some stuff from my Amazon wish list into my cart at like 12:06AM on February 1st and immediately hit Proceed to Checkout. Granted, these purchases were needs rather than wants, but still, pretty embarrassing in hindsight that it only took six minutes into February to shop. Anybody else like this? If so, hope’s not lost! First, though, some background.

I quit coffee altogether for five months this past spring and summer. Before that, coffee was definitely something I relied on. I understand caffeine withdrawal like a pro. I’ve had splitting headaches that I didn’t understand until it hit me that I hadn’t had my coffee in X amount of hours. The fix was easy and all too accessible. Coffee is something I consume in moderation now, like everything else in my diet, and I try to remember the sense of dependance, anxiety, and physical discomfort that coffee represented for me in the past when I relied on it too much.

Hitting Proceed to Checkout at 12:06AM on February 1st and the subsequent dopamine release I experienced reminded me of those accessible caffeine fixes. Maybe shopping wasn’t just a habit. No; I recognized a problem.

Not buying stuff in January felt freeing. I wasn’t waiting on packages or tracking shipping. I didn’t have to drive anywhere to drop off returns. I didn’t have the shame I experience from the buy and return cycle. In January, the saving was the addiction and it felt great and I’m not just talking about money. Think about the time, the energy, the decisions that go into the cycle of shopping, or any bad habit- for that matter. And yet, shopping, once an available outlet again, overtook that sense of peace? Why? I had to get to the bottom of it.

I allowed myself to buy a few needs for the first few days of February, but soon found my wants encroaching. Precious time was lost to the scroll and limited mental energy- to decision fatigue. I have what I need! I tried to shout it in my head, but it came out meek. I preferred how I felt in January. I wanted that peace again, that time, that energy. I set a modest budget for the rest of the month for shopping, wondering if maybe the total deprivation of January was what led to “the itch” to shop as soon as January ended.

Now, let’s talk yesterday. Yesterday, I made a pact with myself to nip this habit in the bud and replace it with more constructive practices. I found myself distracted throughout the day with the craving to head to Marshall’s to buy things that I don’t need. Why? Procrastination, discomfort. When we have things that are difficult that we are supposed to be doing, it is uncomfortable. Discomfort is trigger numéro uno for me when it comes to giving in to bad habits. I learned that in my diet. I learned that in my creative pursuits. Heck, I’m writing this now and it’s not comfortable. I get help out of reading things like this, though, so in hopes that at least one of you will too, here are my reflections on the matter.

Yesterday afternoon, I got dressed with the thought of going to Marshall’s while simultaneously warring with myself to not go to Marshall’s. I left my home and went to my car. What are you doing? Just where do you think you’re going, missy? I said to myself. I got to the first stop sign and told myself, go for a walk instead. Get some energy out. Get some exercise, and maybe this idiotic craving will go away or at least become less noticeable.

By the magic of the gods I listened to me; which doesn’t happen nearly enough, I am sorry to say. I went to the park and started my walk. I ran into a woman I now know by name as I frequently see her on my walks. She said hi and called me by my name and said it was good to see me. That little bit of connection, that little tiny bit of recognition made me smile. I wouldn’t have gotten that at Marshall’s and I would have been short one smile yesterday. Thank you, Pamela.

I walked for about forty-five minutes and as I did, my thoughts turned to things other than shopping. I thought of minimalism and frugality, of mindfulness and the people in my life. I thought of the things that bring positivity and things that bring the opposite. I thought of things that fall into both categories- the people too. I made a mental list. At the end of my walk, I felt calmer. I went home and did some writing I’d been putting off. I watched an old Kate Kaden video on frugality and minimalism. I read some posts of Leo Babauta’s on his blog Zen Habits. I inched toward my center again. I felt my feet firmly on the ground.

This past year, I have learned a lot about myself, accepted a few glaring shortcomings, and been hit by realizations that probably could have been addressed by going to therapy at some point in time, but hey, maybe someday. And that’s a hard maybe. It takes a brave soul to speak your truth out loud to a real life person and I don’t know if I’d exactly be sorted into Gryffindor any old day of the week. I tend to internalize and the wisdom dawns slower, but it dawns all the same.

If you are a person who struggles with addiction and would like help, I hope you can recognize the strength that comes with reaching out to a loved one, a friend, a professional, a support group, heck-even reddit. There is not shame in seeking support and you are absolutely worth others’ time and energy.

Thanks for reading, friends. You are so loved and appreciated. Wishing you a February full of strength, clarity, gratitude, and all the good things! 💖

Health & Lifestyle · Healthy Habits · Minimalism

Gratitude

Beth DeFries2 Comments

It’s January people and boy, oh boy, does it certainly feel like it here in NJ! I’ve got my warm socks, a chunky sweater, and a big hand-knit hat, that my sister in law made, to keep me nice and toasty while writing this. These comfies are adding a little extra security too as I’m not quite sure yet where this post is headed.

This morning, I put away the Christmas decor and the living room feels a little empty in a good way. I’m positive toward negative space. It’s easier on the eyes than our little tree with its warm white, twinkle lights. It’s easier on the mind too and I needed to get back into a writing headspace. The holidays were beautiful and festive and temporary and today felt like the day to store them away so they feel special again come next winter.

On New Year’s Eve, following spending a bit more than usual on shopping in December, I decided I would challenge myself to do a “no shop month” in January. It’s been a week and I’m finally starting to feel like I will actually be able to get through the challenge and possibly even stretch the end date. I don’t want to spend like I did in December, mostly because there is no need to anymore. It all comes down to gratitude, which I’ll get into more in a little bit.

Through the years, I have developed a strong understanding of my personal style, not to say that I have excellent style or anything. Style is subjective. Style can change based on different factors and experiences. The purpose of style is to send yourself out into the world feeling confident so you can accomplish big and little things without feeling self conscious or uncomfortable because of what you’re wearing. Everyone has a sense of personal style whether you recognize yours or not.

I may think that I dress well, but somebody else might disagree. I try not to concern myself though with the somebody else-s of the world when I put an outfit together. It doesn’t matter what somebody else thinks about my clothes so long as I like what I’m wearing and it makes me feel capable and confident. It’s when my clothes aren’t doing that anymore that indicates a time to take a step back and re-evaluate my wardrobe.

I have come to learn that many factors can influence personal style such as personality, budget, availability, occupation, hobbies, and, of course, size and appearance, among others. Back in the spring, I had a personal style that I understood cover to cover. I knew what silhouettes would flatter and conceal, which colors and patterns disguised the areas I preferred not to advertise, and which fabrics hung just so and made me feel like the best version of me.

My appearance has changed a little bit since spring and many of my old favorites don’t give me the confidence that they used to anymore. Many don’t hang just so or flatter. They swallow up a bit too much and there’s only so much a belt can do. Sometimes you just need to buy a few items to make you feel put together again. Hence, my December spree.

My body has a different shape now, a different influence on my mind than it used to, and a different influence on my sense of comfort and contentment. I am a different version of me than I was in the spring. Sometimes, looking back at old photos, it feels sort of like an out of body experience.

I am grateful to the former Beth for noticing the switch flip back in June when it came to questioning distorted hunger cues and unhealthy eating habits. That girl changed my life. I’d love to thank her, but I can’t. She is frozen in time in June looking at a photo of herself from a trip to Chicago, perched precariously on the precipice of something huge. I don’t know if anyone has ever shown up for me quite like that girl did. Certainly, no one has ever called me out on poor habits like she did. No one really could though, I guess. Some things can only come from within. Some things take discomfort to learn. Better her than me, am I right? I am proud of her though. I’m excited for her too, if it’s worth anything from where I stand in her future.

My body changed and my style floundered a bit for a while. It’s a weird feeling to be a size that I never fathomed associating with me. It’s a mental hurdle and a new adventure. I was never one for numbers. Now, I am Milo in Digitopolis with no Tock at my side. From bi-weekly weigh-ins to occasional measurements to money spent on new wardrobe items, it’s easy to get lost in the numbers, in the purchases and returns, in the bank account balance, gas mileage, and shipping and delivery dates. I need a break from numbers, frankly. The fun of shopping can quickly turn into buyer’s remorse and more work in the long run and I just don’t need that right now.

This January is going to be for other things. My wardrobe has all the things it needs and more. There’s no need to shop. I have learned to listen to need over want with my eating habits so much so that I am confident I can do that with my shopping habits as well. This month is for focusing on travel planning and writing, for cozy nights in on freezing days, for doing puzzles with my husband, for bundled-up walks in the crisp chilly air, and for experiencing all of life’s little moments with the presence and attention they deserve. I have all I need. I have all that matters. I am abundant with gratitude and that’s something you just can’t buy.

Travel

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Beth DeFriesLeave a comment

Today has been written off as a travel recovery day. We got home from the airport around 2:30AM due to a delay on our flight home from the sunshine state, but we were happy to have gotten home by then at all. The flight at the neighboring gate to ours in Tampa was canceled after 3+ hours of delays which resulted in one of the disappointed LaGuardia-bound passengers going full Hulk in the terminal, such that he had to be escorted out by eight police officers. We felt lucky in comparison to only be delayed two hours and not to have to spend the night in some airport hotel by the Bay in return-limbo.

Once we deplaned in Newark, the trek from our gate to our car felt long. We were racing against an unknown grace-period beyond the length of our pre-paid parking. We rolled our carry-ons along the waxed tile floors of the shiny new-ish terminal, down an escalator, up an escalator, down an escalator again. We slugged along the acid-washed, blue passage connecting Terminal A to the Airtrain station, passing a man who had lost all care for his luggage and was scraping his bags along the passage wall. We transferred on the Airtrain and finally arrived at our unreliable little car that decided to be reliable this morning, the little angel. We were pleasantly surprised to still be within the parking grace-period when driving through the exit toll of the garage and that put a smile on our faces.

We decided that, despite being dead tired, a stop at Wawa seemed necessary on the way home. Mike expertly navigated the confusing start to our journey as I pointed out all the ways we would have taken a wrong turn and ended up somewhere in Elizabeth if I were navigating.

We enjoyed the empty highways characteristic of the early morning hours when most of New Jersey’s dwellers are nestled in their beds. The hour offered quiet, cool relief compared with the Florida heat and Wawa was a bright, quick respite. We stocked up on a few snacks and we were home soon enough.

Typically, I unpack everything as soon as we get home, but hunger and sleepiness delayed this process. We ate our “meal” in groggy, happy silence, brushed our teeth and fell asleep before we even realized it.

Today, my muscles and bones feel like they were replaced with wet sand and my hair could use a wash but that would certainly be overextending for the day. The grocery shopping is done, the bags are unpacked, and a load of laundry needs to be folded, but that can wait until tomorrow. I preferred to sit here and catch up with you, to move my fingers, and pretend the day was somewhat productive even though I may still be a little bit asleep. I will relish 2:00AM tomorrow from my dreams, tucked comfortably up in warm sheets and a quilt, unconscious to the stress and uncertainties of planes, trains, and automobiles.