Finding the Pieces

The story of how a lost boy found home

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Father, husband, professor, writer, nerd.

  • Just Eat Real Food: Losing Weight One Failure or Success at a Time

    If you are trying to lose weight, chances are you’ve found that there are about six million diet plans that are supposed to be the diet plan for you. To narrow that number down, just ignore any of the plans that propose you eat some strange food over and over until you turn purple, anything that asks you to starve yourself, and anything that promises you will lose all of your extra weight in six weeks or less. That should narrow it down to about 2 million, and that’s still pretty overwhelming. So how in the world are you supposed to pick a diet plan?

    First, you need to not pick a diet plan. I’m pretty sure I’ve said this too many times, but it’s kind of important: losing weight and eating healthy is a lifestyle choice, not something you do for a few weeks or even months. So, then, how do you decide how you’re going to eat for the rest of your life? Well, I’m going to start by telling you it probably won’t be easy. We all have different bodies and different things that we can or cannot have, so it’s going to take you a while to figure out what works best for you. For me, I now know that my body doesn’t process gluten very well. I also know that I have a slight sensitivity to sodium, so if I have too much salt in a day I will probably feel terrible and gain two pounds. These are things I’ve learned over time, and I still have to remind myself that no matter how much I love ham sandwiches (I have a strange love for ham and bread) I probably shouldn’t have them every day.

    But avoiding certain foods isn’t the only part of developing a healthy food plan. For me, and I think it’s safe to say for you, there’s one thing that works for sure: just eat real food. The weight loss world of the internet seems to be obsessed with the paleo diet, and I think they’re onto something. I don’t really have the resources to eat all organic produce and grass-fed beef, but I can make sure that I’m doing everything I can to eat foods that are not processed.


    In a culture that is in love with corn syrup and boxed dinners, though, this is actually a little daunting at first. I’m not exactly the best chef, so when I first started trying to cut out frozen dinners from my meal plan, I spent a few months eating the same three meals until I got to that “ah, screw it” moment and just ate whatever didn’t require any cooking. The result of my frustration was that I ate a lot of raw fruits and vegetables and a lot of peanut butter (which I love almost as much as ham.) And while this definitely worked for a while, it’s kind of easy to get sick of eating the same things over and over again. That has probably been one of my biggest weight-loss sins, because after a while I get too frustrated and reach for the nearest box of mac and cheese.

    So what are some things you can do to eat real food while not getting bored or frustrated? I think the most important thing is to experiment. There are so many great blogs with awesome recipes for you to try. If you’re like me, there are even some with recipes that are nearly impossible to accidentally set fire to. I promise you it’s not going to be easy, but I also promise you that it will be more than worth it.

    Eating healthy doesn’t have to be boring, and if you’re doing it for the rest of your life it will probably help if you actually like what you are eating. I think that’s why I’ve tried and failed at so many diets. I either hated what I was eating or I got sick of it after eating it all the time. Once I realized that I could eat healthy and actually enjoy it, I found that it wasn’t as hard to stick with it.

    Question of the Day: What is your favorite healthy recipe? I’m always looking to try making new things, so please share in the comment section down below!

  • YouTube: Where Content is King, Not the Corporate Label

    Logo property of Google

    This last semester I presented an essay at my school’s scholar conference about YouTube as a cultural text. I’m actually still surprised that my professor let me write the paper on YouTube, and I think that essay will probably go down as one of my favorite written pieces thus far in my college career. I won’t bore you with the nearly 14 pages that this essay ended up being, but I will share with you a few important things that I covered.

    First, I wanted to make sure that I looked at YouTube in a way that considered both the good and the bad. In the end, though, I argued that in spite of the potential dangers that come with the nature of posting videos for the world to view and interact with, YouTube is actually a rather positive online website that helps create and strengthen community, promotes creativity, and encourages both viewers and creators to think through difficult but relevant issues in our culture today. But before I even got into these elements of the site, I wanted to make sure I was clear about what YouTube was, and to do this I first explained what YouTube was not:

    …it might be helpful to first discuss what YouTube is not, even though the company has often strived to attain an atmosphere similar to it: television…While some recognize that YouTube has the potential to surpass standard television programming in views per video, they seem to be reluctant to see the site moving towards a status of “the new TV.”

    When I first wrote this essay, I found that I was on the side of the argument that was sure that YouTube would never sacrifice the loyalty of their users, the very foundation upon which the site was built, to try to compete in the more mainstream realm of media. I wanted to believe that YouTube was better than that. I wanted to believe that YouTube didn’t need to play by the rules of the entertainment industry, not because it was out of line, but because it was playing a completely different game. But then I read an article that made me just a little but queasy, titled “YouTube is About to Delete Independent Artist’s From Its Site.”

    According to the article from Forbes.com, YouTube is getting ready to launch a new subscription service to keep up with the online music marketplaces such as iTunes Radio, Spotify, and Amazon Prime Music. This might not sound like an entirely bad move on the company’s end, until you hear the catch. In preparation for the launch of this new service, YouTube has begun the process of signing new licensing deals with major labels, but many independent artist’s are refusing to take part due to allegedly unfair deals being offered by Google to much smaller Indie labels and artists.

    In response to those not wanting to sign, YouTube has declared that any label that does not sign a deal with them will not only be left off the new service, but they will have their original content taken down from the site itself. This might not be YouTube trying to be TV, but the same principles still apply. In the race to ad revenue and corporate dollars, YouTube is trying to prove that it’s more than just mainstream media’s little brother. But what if YouTube is missing something? What if it’s trying to be something that it is not and should not be? I think Benjamin Cook said it best in his YouTube series Becoming YouTube when he tried to describe why YouTube is at its best:

    …when it does stuff that TV can’t. When it experiments with form and content. When it remembers that [mainstream media] is a monologue and YouTube is a conversation…in contrast, YouTube is at its weakest when working harder to appeal to advertisers than us, the viewers, by pretending to be something that it’s not. Quit trying to be [mainstream media], YouTube…Strive to be different.

    It seems that this development will only affect musicians on the site, but what happens after that? YouTube was meant to be a place where anyone with a camera and something to say, sing, or display could upload content and share it with the world. It’s meant to be a place that encourages creativity and both large-scale and small-scale communities. But most importantly, it’s supposed to be a place where good content is king, not the corporate label and what it deems worthy.

    Please, YouTube, don’t do this. Remember that this site was built around the user. Don’t shut them out just because they can not or will not sign a contract to create.

    Question of the Day: Do you think that YouTube should remain a completely user-generated site, an entertainment hub supplied by big labels and talent agencies, or something in between? I’m really curious to hear what you guys might think, so leave a comment down below to start the conversation!

  • Out of the Comfort Zone: Building a House for Habitat for Humanity

    If you happened to read last night’s post, you will remember that I talked about how I sometimes need to remind myself that I am an introvert and need a little bit of alone time to recharge my social batteries. One thing that I also mentioned was that even though I do need that alone time quite often, I’ve also been working to push myself past my zone of comfort. As a way to help push myself to do different things that I would otherwise be too afraid to do, I decided to make a list of 101 things that I wanted to accomplish…in 1001 days. And today I got to check off another item on my list: help build a house for Habitat for Humanity.

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    For some, this might not sound like something too scary of uncomfortable. In all reality, it really wasn’t something entirely out of my comfort zone, except for the fact that I decided to volunteer with a group of people I had never met. A few weeks ago I stumbled upon an awesome website called meetup.com that helps organize community events and groups, and while browsing the groups throughout Grand Rapids I found a young adult’s group from a local church that was planning on spending a day helping build a house for Habitat. At first I was a little bit apprehensive, but then I reminded myself about the whole meeting new people goal, and decided to RSVP for the event.

    We were supposed to be on the site at 8:30 this morning. I was pretty excited about this last night, but as 7:00 decided to appear much faster than my sleeping brain would have liked, I tried to find reasons not to go. I spent at least five minutes mentally searching my entire body to make sure I hadn’t injured myself while sleeping. I even spent a few minutes contemplating whether or not I felt sick to my stomach. But then I realized the real reason behind my childish attempt to just stay home: I was more nervous about meeting a new group of people, without anyone familiar there to back me up, than I was nervous about making a fool out of myself with power tools.

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    So I managed to get myself out of bed, threw on some old jeans and a t-shirt, then actually left the house and went to the build site. And I am so glad that I did. The group of people volunteering were all really nice and welcomed me into their team. I got to spend 8 hours outside during a beautiful Michigan summer day. I got to wear a hard hat that was bright orange and I found highly entertaining. I got to learn how to use a nail gun, with which I only messed up a few times and I never hit anyone with a nail (this fact pleases me greatly). I also spent some time hauling lumber, hammering nails into wood, and talking with some of the people from the group as we waited to know what to do next.

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    At the end of the day I was happy. I got to meet some really cool people. I learned how to assemble a wall out of wood and nails. I even got invited to the group’s meeting next Wednesday! I also came away with a few bruises, a pretty epic sunburn (because this ginger is a genius and has a tendency to not put on sunscreen), and sore muscles in all kinds of fun places. But it was more than worth the effort.

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    Question of the Day: What is something that you have always wanted to do, but felt a little too afraid to do it? Let me know in the comment section down below!

  • Sometimes I Just Need to be an Introvert

    Two years ago I was completely fine with being alone. I was completely okay with going to class, taking notes quietly at my desk in the corner of the room, walking to my car and driving to work where I sat at a desk and didn’t have to be a social wizard. I was okay with going an entire weekend without talking to anyone other than my mom or brother.

    I was okay with being alone because it was easy. But then I realized something kind of awesome: people are kind of awesome, too. I don’t want you to start thinking that I was that hermit kid who was home schooled and never had friends. Okay, maybe I was home schooled for a few years, but I promise I had friends. I was the kid that spent more time in her room reading than wandering the mall with a group of teenage girls. I don’t think there is necessarily anything wrong with that, but I am so glad that I’ve found joy in community. That being said, I think sometimes I forget something: I’m still an introvert.

    To avoid any confusion, let me make sure that we all know what I’m talking about when I say I’m an introvert. I think that sometimes it’s a little too easy for our culture as a whole to get these very extreme images of what introverts and extroverts are like. Mike Rugnetta talks about introverts in an awesome PBS Idea Channel video on YouTube, and he has a perfect way of describing just what introverts are not: 

    The caricature of the introvert is pretty familiar: Quiet and reserved, smart, and not too interested in social interaction. They retreat from spectacle and, much like a unicorn, appear only briefly on the horizon before retreating to their mythical book-lined intellectually stimulating home, which is built inside of a library which is itself built inside of CERN, underneath a mountain also made of books.

    As incredibly awesome as that house sounds, I can promise you that, as a card carrying introvert, I am not quite that terrified of people. In fact, I think it’s important to remember that just because someone is an introvert does not automatically mean that they are terrified of people. For me it’s actually the opposite. I love people. I love having deep conversations with my friends. I even enjoy meeting new people.

    From the cartoon “How to Live With Introverts” by Schroeder Jones

    So what exactly do I mean when I say I’m an introvert? Among other things, it means that I get my social energy from having alone time or quality time with one or two other people. Think of it as social batteries: whereas an extrovert usually needs to have high levels of social interaction to feel energized, an introvert usually spends their energy during social interactions. The degree to which this is true for each individual will vary from person to person.

    For example, I’ve found that I feel energized most when I am either by myself or spending time with one or two of my close friends. For some reason, as soon as a third person joins the group, I find myself spending more energy to keep up in the conversation. This doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy spending time in larger groups of people; it just means that I will probably be pretty tired later. Some of my other introverted friends can spend more time in large groups without getting worn out, while others can spend less time. It really depends on the person.

    The important thing for me, though, is to make sure I remember that I need to recharge my batteries every once in a while. The last year or so I have been trying harder than usual to spend time with other people. The result of this has been great. I’ve made a bunch of new friends. I’ve pushed myself to do things I would have otherwise never done (i.e. studying at Oxford, making YouTube videos, going on an epic road trip, and even starting this blog). I’ve definitely come to better appreciate the joys of being in community and developing new relationships. But every once in a while I realize how exhausted I am because of it, after which I end up hiding in my room for a week reading Greek Mythology, Harry Potter, and watching reruns of Friends.

    Hanging out with friends and pushing yourself beyond the boundaries of comfort is great. But paying attention to what you need to be healthy is important, too. I guess I’m still trying to find the balance I need to push myself without breaking myself.

    Question of the Day: Do you struggle with finding the right balance between social time and alone time, either as an introvert or an extrovert? Let me know in the comment section below, and if you have any tips for how to find that balance please let me  know!

  • Happy Father’s Day, Grandpa

    Happy Father’s Day, everyone! I have been trying to decide if I wanted to write a post today, and I finally decided that there’s someone pretty important to me that I wanted to write about: my grandpa.

    I honestly do not even know where to begin. My grandfather is the kind of person that would take a little bit more than five buzz words to describe. There is no nut shell when it comes to him, so giving you a glimpse into the person that has been more like a father to me is a little difficult.

    I can tell you that when I prepare one of my friends to meet him for the first time, I always warn them that he’s just a little bit crazy. And by crazy I mean one of the most extroverted and sarcastic people I know, and that’s one of the things I love about him. His favorite way to tell someone he loves them is by telling jokes and making them laugh.

    I can tell you that he is a natural-born leader. I joke that he doesn’t know what it means to be serious, but I know that he has the ability to take charge in a way that is not arrogant or unfair. He has a heart that yearns to see people happy and breaks when he sees them broken, and I see that when he is leading.

    He loves his family more than I can understand. He would do anything to just make sure that they are okay. My grandparents have five children, sixteen grandchildren, and 5.5 great grandchildren, and not one birthday has gone without a call and an extra special version of “Happy Birthday.” If there is a sporting event, school play, band recital, or presentation there is a pretty good chance they will be there, and I can guarantee that Grandpa will be cracking jokes the entire time.

    He has taught me that it’s far better to smile than worry about something completely out of my control. He has taught me that relationships are important, even if they are difficult. He tells me and anyone else who will listen that a day gone by having not learned something new is a day wasted. He has shown me what a husband is supposed to look like, but even better than that he has taught me that no marriage is perfect, and realizing this is more than half the battle of having a successful marriage.

    I have learned so much from my grandfather, and for that I am more than blessed. But there is one thing that I think he’s instilled in me more than anything else: passion for what I love. The first time I decided that I wanted to be a writer I was ten years old. I held onto that until too many people told me I would never be able to make a career of that. My grandpa, on the other hand, didn’t do that. He didn’t tell me I could do anything I wanted to, either. Instead, he was honest. He told me to work towards what I wanted. He told me to do what I love. He also told me that it would not be easy, but he encouraged me anyway.

    He laughs when my mom half-jokingly complains that I have no more room for my collection of books, but he encourages me to read more. When I said I wanted to go to Oxford but was afraid I wasn’t good enough, he told me to stop questioning and just go for it. When I told him that I wanted to move to England to get my Master’s and PhD and later teach, he sighed, joked that I wasn’t allowed to leave, but then smiled and told me he was proud of me. He has taught me to work until I’m ready to drop, then work some more, but to make sure I’m doing it because I’m working towards something that matters.

    I love my Grandpa. He has been there enough to be both a Father and a Grandfather to me. I know this is one of the most cliche things I could say, but I do not know where I would be today if it weren’t for him. Grandpa, if you are reading this, happy Father’s Day. And thank you for always being there to tell me you love me more.

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  • Dreaming of Oxford

    It’s Thursday night, going on Friday morning. I’m sitting at the desk in my room. The wood finish is barely noticeable underneath all the clutter, but I’m okay with that. To my right sits a stack of books ranging from a copy of Shakespeare’s The Tempest to the advanced grammar textbook I used this past semester. A square green and black alarm clock threatens to fall off the edge of the desk, it’s digital face dark and vacant. The small shelves poised above this structure hold copies of poetry, research manuals, and used books I bought even though I’d never heard of them.

    The wall in front of me has this strange ability to give me feelings of both joy and longing. The longing is particularly strong tonight. This collage of strategically placed pictures and pieces of paper has been lovingly named the Oxford Wall. It holds a map of the city of Oxford that points out every library in the city. Another map displays a beautiful bird’s eye view of Oxford. The centerpiece consists of two parts: one picture of me and my friend Laura, each of us with pained looks in our eyes as we held up the book we had to use for one of our hardest essays of that term; the other is a picture of me and my friend Amy taking a slightly less-than-attractive selfie together. Dispersed between these images are a few of my favorite quotes, many by C.S. Lewis, written on moleskin paper.

    This desk is almost nothing like the one in my room I had at the Vines, the house I stayed in while studying at Oxford. Each desk has what feels like a life and story of its own. When I came home I wanted this desk to feel like the one in Oxford, because I seemed to use that one a lot more. So I covered the wall with the things that reminded me of that time. I covered it in books and paper and pens and pencils. I even put my England memory box in the top right corner. But instead of using this desk as I had planned, I’ve found that I can’t. It reminds me too much of the place that became home. So instead I do my homework on my bed. I read my books in the living room. I drink my tea while standing at the kitchen counter. Except for tonight.

    Tonight I decided that I wanted a cup of tea, but I decided to go all out and have a cup of what was my favorite tea when I was in Oxford: apple cinnamon tea from Tesco. It was cheaper than PG Tips and I think it smells like Christmas. When I had finished brewing my tea I decided that a bowl of grapes sounded nice, too. Happy with my culinary decisions, I made my way back to my room to start drafting my next blog post.

    I sat down on my bed, balanced the grapes on a pillow next to me, pulled my laptop towards me, and stopped. I looked over at my desk and decided that maybe tonight I would write there. Because, this might sound really simple and insignificant, but I developed a habit throughout my time in Oxford. It didn’t happen all the time, but often enough I would make a cup of tea, grab my container of grapes from my food cupboard, and settle in at my desk before writing a paper or getting some research done. If it wasn’t the desk it was in the study loft with Amy and Laura. I don’t have a study loft in my house, so I decided the desk was most appropriate.

    I might not be writing an essay tonight, and it might not be going on 3 in the morning. But if I close my eyes and concentrate hard enough, it almost feels like I’m back at the Vines. I can hear the low hum of the space heater turning as Laura curls up dangerously close to it, Amy joking that she’s going to catch fire. I can hear the iron gate slamming shut as someone leaves to write at Wycliffe. The birds are chirping, though why in the world birds in England chirp all through the night is something I will never understand. The Lord of the Rings soundtrack is playing softly in the background of the otherwise stressed silence as we all type furiously, all quietly begging God to give us a few hours of sleep tonight. Occasionally the silence is broken by bits of quiet conversation and moments of exhausted weakness as we cave to look at Tumblr or Facebook. It’s stressful. It’s painful. It’s exhausting. But it’s worth it. It’s beautiful. It’s home.

    But then I open my eyes. I’m back in my room in Michigan. The one with the odd yellow walls, the messy floor littered with laundry and books. The one with the Oxford Wall. My tea is gone. My bowl of grapes is nearly empty. Even though nights like tonight make my heart ache and yearn for the people and places I fell in love with in Oxford, I’m still grateful for them. Nights like tonight give me a more vivid glimpse into the time we did have. I know my memories are probably a little bit hazed and idealized, but I don’t mind. Just so long as I get to remember.

  • Hiding From the AT&T Repair Man

    Yesterday I had decided to reward myself for a productive morning with something extra special: an afternoon nap. Scandalous, I know, but glorious nonetheless. My dog even decided to join me as she snuggled in next to me, though in return for her snuggles I was required to scratch her head – a rather fair exchange if you ask me.

    As I slid into a wonderful world of impossible dreams, I was soon being pulled back to the surface of consciousness. My mom was trying to tell me something, but all I wanted to do was get back to that dream in which I was doing something important, though what that important thing was quickly faded from my memory. A few seconds later I heard her warnings again, but this time I actually tried to listen.

    “The AT&T guy is here to fix the phone! You might want to get up!”

    You see, if I was at all close to normal I would have taken my nap in my own bedroom, away from the intruding repair guy. But no. Instead I decided to crash on the futon mattress that sits oh-so-conveniently in our living room, not five feet from the modem this guy was about to try to fix.

    “Erica! He’s here!”

    Crap.

    I moved to make a run for my room. I was wearing an old ratty t-shirt. My hair looked like it had been brushed with pine cones. But worst of all, I wasn’t wearing jeans. I wasn’t even wearing sweat pants. Oh no. I had decided that I wanted to wear my short yellow shorts that had at least twenty Spongebob Squarepants faces on them (they’re comfy and it was ridiculously hot out, so the shorts beat out the rest of my wardrobe.) Let’s just say this wasn’t my proudest moment.

    As I heard the footsteps approaching the front door, I calculated the risk and realized that there was no way I would make it to my room in time. So what did I do? I bolted for the laundry room, hoping and praying to God that I would have a pair of clean jeans waiting for me in the dryer. I could hear my mom welcoming him at the door, and I’m pretty sure I heard something about him being younger and cuter than most of the other guys that have been here to fix our phone. Awesome. As I continued on the quest for socially acceptable trousers, I found nothing but clean towels and a couple t-shirts. Of course that’s all I could find.

    By this time the repair guy was already in the house. He had made his way to the modem and had started talking to my mom, and here I am cowering in the laundry room that’s basically a glorified walk-in closet. The only thing separating the maybe three feet between me and this guy is a paper thin door with a broken latch.

    This wouldn’t be so bad, right? As long as he didn’t hear me I could easily be left undiscovered and hold on to the little bit of dignity I had left. If only the universe was so forgiving.

    You see, I’ve failed to mention the one thing that gave me away: my dog. Right before I made the initial run for the laundry room, mom begged me to pick up the dog so she wouldn’t try to bite the poor guy’s ankles (she wouldn’t actually do this, but she might try to convince him she could.)

    So as I’m cowering in our closet laundry room, still lacking proper clothing, all this guy can hear is my dog barking like crazy and my mom asking me why the hell I’m in the laundry room.

    I try to cover my motives by saying I’m looking for a pair of jeans, after which she responds by handing me a pair of my brother’s jeans (thanks, mom!)

    In an attempt to make the situation better, I proceeded to ask my dog if she wanted to help me do laundry. Out loud. Please don’t judge me.

    What was probably only a couple minutes but felt like an unbearable eternity finally passed by, and I was still hiding. I’m pretty sure any normal and capable adult would not have taken that long to start a load of laundry, so I’m sure this guy thought I was either insane or just really stupid. He finally had a need to go out to his truck, which was my cue to run for my bedroom. I quickly acquired a pair of jeans, a t-shirt that was less than 10 years old, quickly fixed my hair as best I could, and walked out into the living room like nothing had happened. Because I’m just cool like that.

    I have no idea why I felt the need to hide from this guy. Was he cute? Okay, maybe a little. But what does that matter? I’m not exactly looking for a relationship at the moment, and I’m pretty sure the guy mentioned kids at home. So why should I care what the AT&T repair man thinks of my SpongeBob shorts? I don’t know. What I do know, though, is that my few moments of agony apparently resulted in some form of amusement for my mom and a few of my friends, so I decided to share it with you guys.

    Moral of the story: You shouldn’t have to care what others think of you. But in the case that you do, know that it’s okay to laugh at yourself and your SpongeBob short shorts.

    Question of the Day: Do you have any funny (or not so funny) embarrassing stories of your encounters with the repair guy?

  • Blogging Credentials: Losing Weight One Failure or Success at a Time

    Happy Monday, everyone! I know that, for many of us, Monday isn’t exactly our favorite day of the week. I will admit that I’ve had a few bouts of the snooze virus, or better known as the “I’m-probably-sick-because-it’s-Monday-so-I’m-sleeping-in” virus. But for the most part I actually enjoy my Monday’s (and even – gasp – Monday mornings!) There’s just something about the beginning of a new week that gives me an extra dose of energy. Now, this might have something to do with my usual morning cup of irresponsibly strong coffee, but I chose to believe otherwise.

    So, in the spirit of Monday and a fresh start to the week, I decided that I wanted to sit down and write a new blog post this morning. I was torn between two post ideas, when I realized that they actually kind of work together. I’ll begin with telling you about a conversation I had with my friend Amy last night. The two of us have been health accountability partners for quite a few months now, and last night she sent me the following message:

    So I need some juicing help…
    I kind of just bought a bunch of random things to juice and now I’m wondering what things go together well and if certain things are better at different times of day.
    I bought:
    A bunch of kale
    An apple
    A lemon
    A big bag of carrots
    4 kiwi
    2 boxes of blueberries
    help?

    I haven’t caved and bought a juicer yet, but I have had quite a bit of experience with fruit and veggie smoothies, so I figured the general principles must be the same. After thinking it over, I ended up sending her a response with a few tips:

    •  Experimentation is key. We all like different things, so have fun trying different combinations
    • All fruit juice for breakfast, then add veggies for lunch and dinner
    • In the beginning, try using a bit more fruit than veggies as you are easing your way into the acquired taste that is pond scum (I promise it’s not that bad, it just looks a little like algae)
    • There are a ton of great websites and recipes online for juices and smoothies if you want specific recipes.
    • If you’re finding that you want a little more substance, try making a smoothie rather than a juice for one meal – it keeps the pulp so it’s more filling.
    • For smoothies, try freezing a base fruit (bananas or peaches work great) and throw in some fresh stuff alongside it. The frozen fruit keeps it cold and much more like tropical ice cream than super thick mush.

    This list is far from all-inclusive, but I felt confident in sending her the little bits of information I did know. It wasn’t until she kiddingly thanked me for being her “personal health guru” that I started thinking about how much I actually knew and whether or not I had the authority to share what I did know. So, as a way to clarify my lack of official qualifications, I sent her a final response:

    No worries! Though I wouldn’t go so far as guru. More like person-who-has-spent-way-too-much-freaking-time-on-the-interet-and-knows-a-few-things-now, or better known by the acronym PWHSWTMFTOTIAKAFTN

    As you can probably tell, there’s a little bit of sarcasm hinted there, but behind it lies something important that I have been thinking about for a while. This is where that second post idea I was talking about earlier comes in: the power of words. One of my professors wrote a blog post about a common issue with blogging. He was speaking to the issue with bloggers writing about Christian theology without the credibility and, more importantly, accountability of an institution or church. I’m not necessarily writing about theological principles, but his post really made me stop to think about my own blog and writing. Whether we are writing about morality, the nature of God, politics, or how to lose weight, there is still one truth that applies to them all: words have carried a power greater than we can imagine since the beginning of time, which is why it is both an honorable and dangerous calling to write.

    As I’m writing this blog and trying to share my experience with weight loss, I think it’s important that I am able to recognize that I am not exactly an expert. I’m not a doctor or a dietician or even a personal trainer. What set of credentials, then, do I have to offer? Why should anyone listen to me and my ranting posts about trying to live a healthy life? Why read my blog when you can read one of the other thousands dedicated to weight loss and diet plans?

    I’m not sure if this is the right answer, but I hope that it’s enough: I don’t have a medical degree or the right to tell you what you can or can not eat or how you should or should not exercise. Please make sure that you are talking to your doctor about your health plan. I’m just the girl that has worked consistently over the last couple years to lose weight and finally feel healthy. I can not and will not create a six-week plan to lose 20 pounds.

    What I will do, though, is share with you what works for me. I will share with you what doesn’t work for me. And I will ask you to help me. I will ask you to share what works and does not work for you. I will keep you accountable and ask you to do the same for me. And in the process of it all, my hope is that we will get to know each other a little better and work together to keep each other accountable. I’m not sure how strong those credentials look next to Jillian Michaels or Jared the Subway guy, but I hope that they at least count for something.

    Question of the day: Do you think there is value in accountability for bloggers, or do you think the nature of the internet and blogging calls for little to no accountability at all?

  • Living Intentionally: Reading the Happiness Project

    I’ve been reading the book titled The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin. When I first stumbled upon this book a few months ago, I’ll admit I was a little bit skeptical. I was kind of expecting it to be another self-help book full of overly optimistic pointers and so-called fool-proof lists to make me happier. What I’ve found, instead, is a book of one woman trying to understand just what happiness is by living her life intentionally. Part of this comes from her resolution to work on a different realm of her life each month of the year, gradually stacking the previous months resolution onto the next. Rubin’s monthly resolutions range from how she handles her energy levels, her attitude, her work, and even her play. And since reading the first half of the book, I’ve found myself living more intentionally, and you know what? I’m starting to see a noticeable difference in how happy I feel on a daily basis.

    Living intentionally is something I’ve been trying to master for a few years now. When I first started college I decided that I wanted to spend my time well, making room for both work and play. I’ll admit that I don’t always make room for play, but I’m working on it. This last week especially, I’ve been focusing more on how I spend my time. I’m spending more time writing and reading. I’m getting errands done. I’m carefully planning out meals and setting aside time to exercise. I’m even setting aside time to just relax and watch reruns of my favorite sitcoms. Part of this comes from the fact that it’s summer and I have more time to spare, but part of it, I think, has come from reading this book and becoming more aware of what I spend my time on.

    There is one thing that I’ve noticed, however, in the midst of all this intentional living. I might be getting more things done, but there’s something missing still: community. I’ve been yearning a sense of belonging that I didn’t even know I needed until I found a community on YouTube last summer and, later, the community I found while studying in Oxford. I might be an introvert and need my time alone, but I’m beginning to miss feeling like I’m a part of something bigger than myself.

    Since leaving Oxford I’ve missed that sense of community. Sure, it’s still there in some sense. A lot of us still talk on Facebook and write letters back and forth. I just got back from a month-long trip with one of my friends from Oxford and along the way we spent time with three other members of the same program. It was great. Those relationships are still a huge part of my life, but those people aren’t down the hall anymore. The same goes for the YouTube community. I still hear from some of those friends once in a while, but we all lead busy lives and truth is I miss that sense of community we had when we were all making videos on a regular basis and having group Skype calls late into the night.

    I’m happy. I’m happier than I was this last semester. I’m definitely happier than I was four or five years ago. And I’m sure a lot of that has to do with finally having a sense of purpose and calling. I know what I want to do with my life now, and that’s great. But maybe that isn’t enough. I know that’s not enough. When I first started this blog I wanted to use it as a way to figure out who I am and what I’m meant to do. I’ve found a few of those pieces this last year, and I’m so grateful for that. I’ve found that things like scholarship, YouTube, weight loss, and quiet moments alone are important pieces to who I am. But I’ve also found that those pieces make a lot more sense when I get to share them with other people that care about those pieces, too. I wasn’t expecting to find that, but I’m so glad I did.

    Now all I need to do is figure out a way to be a part of a community. Whether that be in strengthening the relationships with old friends or finding new ones (or both), I’m not sure yet. All I know is that part of being happy, for me at least, is finding a balance between letting myself be an introvert and have mornings by myself in a coffee shop and giving myself time spent with others. I’ve got the coffee shop thing down, now I just need to work on the part where community comes in.

    Question of the Day: What role does community play in your life and happiness? Do you seek out large groups of people, or maybe a small group of two or three other people that care about the same things you do? I’m trying to think of ways to recreate a sense of community in my life, and any tips or suggestions would be great!

     

  • Big Goals and Little Goals: Losing Weight One Failure or Success at a Time

    Most of my friends and family will tell you that I’m a little bit of a nut when it comes to lists. If I can break it down into bullet points, I probably will. Half the reason behind this is that I forget things. Important things. All. The. Freaking. Time. So I eventually learned that if I write down a reminder to myself that I have that appointment with my academic advisor next Wednesday and proceed to copy that reminder down in about six other locations, there’s a pretty decent chance that I might not forget.

    Other than as a way to make sure I don’t forget appointments and essay deadlines, I’ve found that making lists regarding my weight loss plan is one of the tricks most helpful for staying motivated. What kind of lists, you ask? I won’t bore you with the inspiration behind each one, but I will break them down into an oh-so-convenient list-about-lists (don’t worry, I do in fact realize how completely crazy and nerdy I sound right now, but I don’t really care).

    • Macro goals

      • Ultimate goal weight (140 lbs)

      • Weight-loss milestones (in increments of 50 pounds)

    • Micro goals (or “micro quotas,” as Gregory Ciotti calls them in this awesome article about the Science of Good Habits)
      • Weight-loss steps or mini milestones (in increments of 10 pounds)
      • Weekly goals (exercise, diet, etc.)
      • Daily goals (water intake, food journaling, etc.)

    I realize that not everyone is as obsessed with lists as I am, but there’s something about breaking our bigger goals up into smaller goals that make them seem a little bit more attainable. Setting a goal to lose 100 pounds is wonderful, but it’s also a little bit scary. When I first decided to get serious about losing weight, I was faced with one three-digit number: 227. That was the magic number I needed to lose in order to hit my goal weight. And quite honestly, I almost gave up before I even began. How in the world was I supposed to lose over 200 pounds? Someone once said that “real supermen don’t leap over buildings in a single bound, they take small, determined steps consistently over time.” So that’s what I decided I needed to do. One single determined step after one single determined step.

    Question of the Day: What are your goals, and how have you broken them down, if at all?