Hunger and kindness

I am getting hungry more often and eating larger portions (the largest portions being about a cup). I'm trying not to be paranoid about this--I have no desire to go back to full-blown eating-disorder-think, and I'm fairly certain I'm "normal" for seven months out from surgery. I don't keep a food journal at present (and I have no desire to, because it just feels punitive and therefore begs me to chafe against it), but I do try to keep a running tally throughout the day of approximate protein grams and calorie intake. I was told to try to stay at about 1500 calories a day, which I assume I am going to have to do for the rest of my life. Fine, fabulous, okay--I'm fine with that as long as I keep losing at some point. At present, I am still in plateau range, holding at 207-208 pounds--I have yet to see the scale go below 207. I'm only walking two days a week (about a mile at a time and at a brisk pace). I have the best of intentions in terms of stepping that up in the near future, but my ankle has been hurting quite a bit. With the stress of the next couple of weeks--job ending, interviewing and applying for new jobs, grandmother moving--I am not pressuring myself too terribly hard to make any extra changes until this month is over.

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There is no quality in people (myself AND others) that I value more than kindness--actually, if I had to choose, it would probably be a tie between kindness and humor. After venting about wanting a technical writing certificate and how hard it would be for me to obtain it due to finances, a friend of mine offered to loan me the money--completely out of the blue. I was--AM--so touched, it is difficult to articulate my feelings.

I put myself through college (it took ten years for me to earn a B.A.; I started a Masters, but left after one quarter) with not one offer of financial help from anyone that I knew. It was a long, hard struggle--one I am still making payments on, but one I am also extremely proud of and wouldn't trade for anything in the world. I also hate (like fire) to borrow money or feel like I owe anyone for anything, EVER. However, this friend is the rare person it would not be awkward to accept a loan from. She cares about me, is generous and kind, and has no agenda whatsoever--I've known her for twenty years. (And seriously, on the whole, how often are we afforded such opportunities in life? Knowing people like this, knowing their hearts--it makes me a bit verklempt.)

I feel very calm, unusually Zen, about this particular situation. I think there are valuable lessons in it for me that go beyond "things happen for a reason". It's a telegram from the universe telling me once again to practice what I preach, in this case: when people are kind, it's okay to accept their kindness--and when they want to help, it's okay to accept their help. Acceptance of kindness and help does not make me less of a person--it invites me to become more of one. It opens my heart, it gives me hope, and it helps me to thrive so that I can put that much more positive energy and action out into the world.

Thank you.