Saturday, March 21, 2009

Lessons From a Stranger

I treated myself to brunch at one of my favorite places in the neighborhood today. A cute, super-casual diner by the subway, with hot food and fresh-squeezed juices. It's the perfect place to eat a healthy and filling brunch on a crisp, sunny Saturday morning.

As I happily munched on my egg-white, spinach and tomato omelette (with dry rye toast and a few bites of the incredibly delicious potatoes that accompanied it) a man came in and sat down with his newspaper. He was a large man, not much older than me, and the waiter knew automatically what he wanted. I casually watched this man as the waiter brought him an iced coffee, to which he added 5 packets of sugar and a good couple of tablespoons of cream. He was then delivered a stack of chocolate chip pancakes, 2 huge sausages, and scrambled eggs with cheese. He ate quickly and seemed more focused on his paper than on what he was eating.

This man was striking for two reasons. The first of which was the reminder that THAT USED TO BE ME. Not so long ago, I wouldn't have thought twice about ordering a breakfast like that, telling myself that it was good food and I'd do better later. The second was much more judgemental, in that I wanted to go over to him and beg him to change his ways and save his life. His breakfast was probably well over 2,000 calories and had so little nutritional value. I wanted to tell him my story and how his life could be so different if he'd just open himself up to the possibilities of healthy living. I wanted to show him what a healthy, productive life he could live if only he'd swap his food choices for healthier ones. I wanted to tell him that it's okay to love and take care of himself, despite what the rest of the world might say or think.

I feel awful for judging this person based on one meal, especially because we all indulge on occasion. What if Saturday is his one day of eating exactly as he wants to? What if he's perfectly healthy and happy and content just how he is? What if he's tried and tried to change his ways, and life just prevents him from doing so? What if he already feels terrible enough as it is, and me rubbing it in his face is just another source of pain from the outside world?

I've learned through the years that you can't change people, and you can't make them do something against their will. I wouldn't have said anything to this man even if I hadn't learned that lesson, but I feel kind of bad for feeling bad for him. I sometimes don't realize how much things have changed in the last couple of years, so sometimes it shocks me to see how people live and eat. I wish I could help everyone to love to eat fresh, healthy foods like I do, but I know I can't.

And I also know I'm not a saint. I know I'm no better than that man at the diner today. I slip up, I make many mistakes, and I'm not always as healthy as I claim to be.

But I know where I've been, and I know where I'm going, even if I don't always know where I am at the present moment.

Maybe that man at the diner knew where he was at the moment; just enjoying his breakfast, without concern for the future or the consequences of eating it.

Sometimes I wish I could do that.

Friday, March 20, 2009

It's been awhile since I've posted here. I can't really tell you why, except for the fact that I just haven't felt pulled to this space lately. I don't know if it's because my eating habits have been less than stellar, or because I've just been too busy to think about things, or if something deeper is keeping me away. I have lots of thoughts, lots to catch up on, though I feel the need to move forward than reflect on what's already happened.

Today in my voice lesson I became incredibly frustrated as I tried to hold my body up correctly, re-teach myself to sing a piece I know well for an important audition this weekend, and incorporate all of the vocal technique my teacher has worked so hard to teach me. After the lesson, I sat in the ladies room crying over the fact that I was completely overwhelmed by it all.

I realized that it was more than just overwhelm--it was a feeling of not having a clue who I am. I feel like I'm in this body that feels so unfamiliar and is so ugly (all this extra skin is really starting to get to me.) More than that, I don't see this body when I look in the mirror; I see the person I was 18 months ago, before I lost any weight. It's very confusing to see the opposite of what you are in the present moment, especially when you know others are looking at you in a completely different way. It's almost like a loss of control over how I put myself out to the world; as much as I try to dress and stand proudly, how is the world going to perceive me when on the inside I still feel like that 300 pound woman?

As my singing has changed in response to this new body, I've basically had to re-learn how to sing. Music has always been my saving grace, the one place I've been confident and comfortable, and now I have no idea who I am as a singer. It's frustrating and dizzying to lose that confidence in myself, particularly at a time like this.

I keep searching to find out who I am and what I am supposed to be. I keep planning for the future and ironing out the past while still feeling totally confused about my present. I'm waiting for God to show me how and what God wants me to be...I just wish I could figure it all out already.

This Sunday we are all auditioning for new pulpits for next year. It's an awful market for cantors right now, as several of the regular student pulpits have withdrawn their applications due to the crappy economy. There are roughly 16 jobs for the 20 of us who are searching, so it's inevitable that some of us won't get jobs next year. I'm applying for several positions, but the one I want is at one of the biggest congregations in NYC. My chances of actually getting the job are tiny, as I am applying with the brightest and the best that HUC has to offer.

I really wanted to go into these interviews confident and proud, though I'm not entirely sure I can do that after today's lesson. I need to work next year, so I'm hoping and praying these rabbis and cantors will find something in me that I don't see so well in myself.

Keep your fingers crossed.

Sunday, March 1, 2009

I'm contemplating the idea of taking a year off, moving home, and thinking about things.

I really don't think I can survive another 3 1/2 years here.

Thoughts?