Category: Catching Up With Connie

Embrace Cravings as Your Allies, Not Enemies

Are you hit by cravings in the morning, afternoon, and night, as well as in between?
How-to-fight-sugar-cravingsAnd do you detest when your cravings for sugar, carbs or something rich get the best of you? Especially when the number on the scale keeps getting higher?
What if you changed your attitude about your cravings?
What if instead of dreading them, you welcomed them and even invited them in?
Just think how much easier your relationship with food would be if you embraced your cravings as your allies!
You want to welcome your cravings, because they’re giving you valuable messages. And once you decode your cravings, you’ll be able to give yourself what you really want.
Confused? Discover 20 messages your cravings may be telling you.
Just read my new article on Heal Your Life, “Craving Sugar and Carbs? Make them your allies instead!”

Connie’s Confession: Taking Back My Power & Healing My Broken Heart

After a loss—whether it’s the death of someone you love or the end of a relationship—have you ever felt suspended in limbo? Plus, you just couldn’t find your mojo again?
Well, I feel ready to come clean with you. Ever since my dear mother passed away recently, I’ve been a grieving, heartbroken, stymied health coach and wellness author in crisis. In short, I’ve been feeling “off.”
While I’m working to get closer to being “on” so I can serve you again, I’m now ready to make a confession.
Broken Heart Pieced Back TogetherMy mom’s death and my subsequent discoveries about things she did or didn’t do have hit me hard. Recently, I’ve been crying at least once or twice a week—like the time I found NO mention in her datebook that I was moving nearly 3,000 miles to be with her in her dying days. Ouch!
Plus, Cheerful Connie isn’t around as much anymore. Not only that, but I’m not sure where I should live now.
A little bit of history is in order. Slightly more than a year ago, I gave up my apartment in New York City (where I’d been for a decade) and moved back to California to be of service to my dear dying mother, who had stage 4 lung cancer. (But she decided to let the disease progress at its own course — she choose to forgeo chemotherapy and meds for fear of horrible side effects.)
Now that I’ve lost my mother, I’m all alone in another part of the country, without her and without my friends in the Big Apple.
Loss, I’m discovering, can wallop you. It can toss you into turmoil and turbulence. And if your dear mommy died, that can send you whirling.
I’ve also been in a quandary. I’m a health coach, life coach, and bestselling author (Sugar Shock and Beyond Sugar Shock). How can I share with you my intense pain and sad truth that I’m just not back to being my best me?
And why is Cheerful Connie taking so long to return? While she’s starting to make a comeback, she’s still often frustratingly elusive.
Previously, I didn’t tell you the full truth about how Mom behaved badly in her last year, how horribly she treated me at times, and how My Last Year with My Mother was an utterly grueling ordeal.
The reason I told you a half-truth before is because I was simply too embarrassed, hurt, and heartbroken.
What’s more, I want to honor, respect, and put the best foot forward on behalf of my Mom, whom I dearly loved, admired, and respected.
I really, really adored my mother, and I was very, very reluctant to share her weaknesses.
Before, in this blog post, I offered only glowing praise for my mother and how she taught me—and you—how to leave Planet Earth with spunk and style.
Yes, fall 2011 to fall 2012 was a charming, wonderful, poignant time, during which my beloved mother shared valuable lessons with me. She blazed (often with me along) through her impressive culinary and cultural bucket list, and we had many pleasant moments together.
In other words, My Last Year with Mom was full of sweetness. But it was glutted with bitterness as well. That’s why I now call this time My Bittersweet Last Year with Mom.
Now, I feel ready to tell you a little about the bitter part.
What made My Last Year with Mom especially gut-wrenching and tear-jerking for me was that the calm, coherent, often-poised mother I loved and knew vanished.
Instead, as her brain and body were invaded by cancerous cells, she became Crabby Cancer Mom, someone who could be accusatory, angry, argumentative, confrontational, controlling, cruel, demanding, difficult, distrustful, hostile, insulting, irrational, manipulative, mean, and vindictive.
For reasons I still don’t quite understand—other than that dying people take it out on people they love the most—Crabby Cancer Mom displayed a particular vengeance and viciousness towards me. That was especially tough to take since I’d given up my apartment in New York City and relocated for her. (I’m now living in a cramped but peaceful place I hurriedly took after Mom angrily threw me out of her home for the umpteenth time.)
In other words, during My Bittersweet Last Year with My Mother, I was a victim of Mom Abuse.
Bear in mind that my mother’s mistreatment of me was unintentional. It was the cancer’s fault.
Real Mom was in the dark. She didn’t know what she was doing. At least I don’t think she did.
But although I knew Crabby Cancer Mom was NOT my Real Mom, I still often felt confused, frustrated, exasperated, aghast, helpless, devastated, sad, downright shattered, and absolutely frightened to be myself.
Of course, experts recommend that you set limits in your relationships.
“Speak up for yourself,” they suggest. That’s good advice, but when you’ve made a strong commitment to yourself to be there no matter what for your angry, dying mother, you can’t set boundaries, especially if—as her disease infects her thoughts and behavior—she treats you abysmally. (In fact, she treated me so horribly that some people who witnessed her putdowns were shocked that I stood by her.)
Anyhow, I’ve been reeling in aftershock for the past four months. And I’ve had enough.
It’s time to take back my power. I’m determined.
To get to a centered place where I can serve you again, I’ve now mapped out my comeback.
I’m taking time out every day to nurture myself, including going to the gym, meditating, attending a grief support group, listening to James Twyman’s The Moses Code, or reading inspirational passages from authors such as Dr. Wayne W. Dyer, Dr. Ken Druck and Anne Lamott. I’m also back in therapy, and I work with a coach from time to time.
I’m cleaning up my food. In particular, I’m limiting or steering clear of quickie carbs such as sweet potato chips, corn nuts, and popcorn. (More about that later, but suffice it to say that I haven’t been perfect since Mom died. I did, however, stay away from the sugar so for those of you wondering, I am still sugar-free.)
I’m healing and getting perspective, as well as honoring my mother, by writing a new book, which I’m tentatively calling, Bittersweet: How to Stand by Your Difficult, Dying Loved One and Learn from My Rollercoaster Last Year with Mom. (The book title may change.)
At long last, I’m going on a 10-day transformational retreat from Jan. 30 to Feb. 10 to get my act together, so to speak. Please note that I’m NOT taking a vacation. Rather, I’m going to dig very deep so that I can become a better me and be better able to serve you.
I’m going on e-mail and phone silence. Admittedly, this is a requirement for the program I’m attending, but I would do it anyhow.
I’m turning many times a day to the endearing, inspirational best-selling author Louise Hay for help. For instance, I’m listening over and over again to the forgiveness track on Louise’s CD of I Can Do It. “Forgiveness of yourself, and of others, will release you from the prison of the past,” she knowingly says. Later, she charmingly puts it, to “it’s time to move with joy into the now.”
I’m honoring myself and my need for healing time by allowing myself to postpone presenting my Sugar Freedom Now Virtual Retreat and delay taking on new coaching clients.
Of course, you want me to be there fully so right now, I’m dedicating myself to “refueling,” regrouping, rediscovering my true calling, uncovering my strengths, finding inner peace, and reaching a higher plane.
I invite you to join me. Go on your own voyage of healing and rebirth so you can Take Back Your Power.
Even if you aren’t grieving the loss of a loved one, you can become dedicated to rediscovering your own beauty and wisdom.
Please let me know what transformational methods work best for you to Take Back Your Power. I’m eager to explore tactics that I may be overlooking.
By the way, please stay tuned.
On April 15, I will be celebrating 15 years sugar-free (mostly). Yikes!
In honor of that landmark, I’ll be giving lots of radio and TV interviews about my most recent book, Beyond Sugar Shock, which came out while Mom was dying. (I’m so grateful that before Mom passed away, she saw and was very proud of me for my new book.)
I’m also planning a newly improved six-week Sugar Freedom Now Virtual Retreat. It begins March 6.
Thank you kindly for your patience during this challenging, but transformative time.

I am Thankful for You: Connect with Me on Facebook

Thank you, wonderful readers, for continuing to visit this Sugar Shock Blog although I’ve been gone a lot due to my mom’s terminal illness over the last year and lately have been grieving over her recent death.
I’m very grateful to you.
In case you don’t know what I’m talking about, you can learn more about my tender, but trying time in this previous blog post.
I had hoped to get back to posting regularly a lot sooner than this, but I just needed more time to heal.
I’ve also been — and still am — experimenting with various healing techniques so that I can let go of my grief.
Soon, you’ll be able to to listen again to top experts on my Gab with the Gurus Show, and to join my Sugar Freedom Now Course.
Facebook-fans
Also, connect with me on Facebook. I’ve now begun to regularly post articles and thoughts again. I also am beginning to ask you intriguing (I hope) questions again, and I’d love to read your replies. See you soon on Facebook!

Please Share Your Best Tips to Heal from Death or Loss

Recently, as I shared here, my mom — who passed away recently after a year-long battle with stage 4 lung cancer — taught me how to die with grace, dignity and joie de vivre.
Right now, to be honest with you, I’m not back to my usual effervescent self.
I’m realizing that I need time to heal.
So I’m exploring many ways to heal after my loss — and to do so with an open mind and self-compassion. For instance, I’m taking Zumba and Nia classes; crying when I need to; writing quite a bit; listening to soothing music; doing bereavement counseling; and exploring various healing modalities.
Today, after a challenging Thanksgiving weekend during which I really missed very much, I invite you to share your favorite tactics to heal after loss.
Please let me know what’s worked for you after you’ve lost a parent or other loved one or after you’ve suffered another loss. Also, pleas share your favorite books. I look forward to hearing your ideas.
By the way, I’m gearing up to help you sugar addicts next year. In honor of Cyber Monday, I’m offering a special rate at my upcoming Sugar Freedom Course, which begins Jan. 9. Get more info and sign up here now.

Mom Taught Me How to Live & Die with Courage, Gratitude and Spunk: She Can Teach You, Too

This is the most painful blog post I’ve ever had to write. But, dear reader, I feel that I owe you an explanation of why I’ve been absent so often and for such long stretches of time during the past year.
Last fall, my strong, energetic, astute, health-conscious mother — who lived nearly 3,000 miles away — announced at an intimate family gathering that she’d been diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer.
My dear Mom — whose lung cancer had absolutely nothing to do with smoking – chose to forego any medical treatment that might give her unwanted side effects. In other words, she didn’t want to take pills, submit to chemotherapy, etc. Instead, she opted to let the cancer run its course and to lead her life to the fullest in whatever time she had left.
After her initial shock at getting stage 4 lung cancer, my normally healthy Mom went on to beat the odds — heroically, stoically, defiantly — for a full year. Remarkably, she lived well past the three months she thought she’d last.
Recently, after going through her long, amazing “bucket” list of things she wanted to do, Mom passed away peacefully, with a smile on her face.
Mom_heartThankfully, for nearly a year, I was around to personally watch Mom’s brave battle, because as soon as I completed last-minute editing and fact-checking deadlines for my then-upcoming book, Beyond Sugar Shock, I hurriedly moved from New York City (my home for the past decade) to be near Mom in California (where she lived) for what we thought would be her final weeks or months.
As it turned out, Mom lasted another 9 1/2 months after I arrived so I had the good fortune of being able to spend many amazing times with her at the end of her life.
What a life-changing experience it’s been — terribly painful and grueling, but also truly uplifting and inspiring.
Looking back, it was a rare honor and distinct privilege to see Mom valiantly fighting off the lung cancer that was invading her increasingly frail body and brain.
And how extraordinary to see her indomitable spirit prevail so long past the few months she thought she had left!
Indeed, the entire year since Mom’s diagnosis was filled with a bitter-sweetness — precious new memories; unexpected obstacles; valuable lessons; gut-wrenching, disease-triggered side effects such as anger and impatience; and sweet, tender moments that I now call “My Mom Miracles.” Like the time she called me up just to say, “I’m feeling weak, but I want you to know I love you very much.” What experience can top that?!
Perhaps my biggest takeaway from the last year is this: Mom taught me the secret to dying well.
My mother went out with such style, spirit, and spunk!
All of us still living can learn from my mother.
Mom offered a stellar example of how best to leave this earth: The secret to dying well is to seize the moment with courage and determination and to squeeze as much joy, fun and deliciousness as you can while doing what you most love.
Although I’m shedding tears now as I write this, what I now find amusing is that Mom’s things-to-do-before-I-die “bucket list” demonstrated a vitality, enthusiasm, and verve that many young people lack. What Mom did in her last year of life would would put many people to shame!
Just read about her end-of-life “exploits,” if you will.
In between napping (and suffering from the indignities of the disease), my wheelchair-bound mother went to challenging plays, modern ballet performances, thoughtful art movies, high-definition Metropolitan Opera screenings, nice restaurants (including new eateries), her favorite farmers’ markets (Mom loved organic fruits and vegetables), and even a nearby beach, where she loved to watch waves crash against the shore. (Recently, at her request, in a private memorial ceremony, I scattered Mom’s cremains — that’s the word for cremated remains — into the Pacific Ocean.)
While the lung cancer was rapidly spreading and her time was running out, Mom also gave cooking lessons to her nurses and me (I now have a notebook of newly acquired great recipes); did some redecorating (she surrounded herself with photos of loved ones, added longer bamboos to one of her favorite vases, and bought new, cute end tables); and did final, generous planning and organizing of papers, finances, etc.
This past summer, Mom even vicariously swam with me. What I mean is that when she no longer had the strength to swim herself, Mom — who didn’t even complain that she wasn’t up to it — asked me to take a few laps in her favorite area, near the ocean. (It had salt water, not chlorine.) When I returned from my swim, Mom looked at peace and said she felt “refreshed” and “calm,” as I did. Isn’t that amazing?
In her final days, Mom even continued to read two newspapers daily (who does that?!), often underlined sections she found interesting, and saved piles of articles for me to read (I’m still going through them!).
Much to my utter joy and profound relief, Mom also lasted long enough to see my second book, Beyond Sugar Shock, get published. (It came out in June). You can read (below) the book’s Dedication that I wrote for her. (I’m so thankful that my Hay House editors kindly let me add it at the last minute.)
In other words, knowing that she was going to die soon, Mom was determined to enjoy a dazzling end of life, spending many meaningful, memorable times alone, as well as with friends and loved ones, including me, of course.
As I think back over this past year, I am grateful for so many things.
I’m grateful that Mom and I were able to spend so many good times together doing things we both loved (going to the theater, farmer’s markets, films, Metropolitan Opera screenings, dinners, the beach, etc.)
I’m grateful that Mom and I were able to share the simple, fun pleasure of finding grammatical errors in newspapers or books. That’s a love we both shared. (I suspect that I became an author and journalist, in part, because of Mom’s love for the English language and her interest in the world.)
I’m grateful that Mom took time, even in her final days, to teach me things that she felt are very important. (Read below about some of her lessons.)
I’m grateful that Mom forgave me for the many times in the past when I disappointed her, “fell short,” or did something “wrong.” (Hey, I haven’t been the perfect daughter over the years.) Likewise, I am grateful that I was able to forgive her, too.
I’m grateful that Mom said truly nice things about me to others (behind my back). She described me to her rabbi as a “wonderful, loving, supportive daughter with a heart of gold.” (I’m getting tears in my eyes again.)
I’m grateful that I was able to say goodbye to Mom the night before she passed away. I told her that it was okay to go, that I’m strong and that I’ll be fine without her, that she had taught me a lot, that I’ll think of her whenever I swim (one of her favorite things to do), that I’ll make her proud of me, and that she’d been a wonderful role model.
I’m also grateful that Mom, without even realizing it, gave me an idea for — and inspired me to write — a much-needed book, which can help many. I’m now hard at work writing it as I grieve for her.
Now, here’s the Dedication my Hay House editors let me add at the last minute to my book, Beyond Sugar Shock, after I learned that Mom had stage 4 lung cancer. (It comes right before the Table of Contents.)
To My Beloved Mom
To my amazingly strong, talented, inspiring mom. Thank you for teaching me by your stellar example to believe in myself and to optimistically pursue my goals and dreams, to embrace the arts and other passions with a childlike enthusiasm, and to persevere no matter what.
And here’s another, more recently written special Dedication to Mom that I’m posting on this Sugar Shock Blog and my other blogs, including my Gab with the Gurus Blog.
To My Remarkable Mom, Who Taught Me to Die Well
Dearest Mom, although your time on earth has ended, you still inspire, motivate, and guide me. I think of you often, and I miss you a lot.
You’d be happy to know that I still remember your many lessons. For example, I’m determined—like you—to follow my dreams with steadfast optimism, staunch determination, unwavering dedication, and purposeful perseverance.
What’s more, I’ll follow your lead and make sure to have ample integrity, self-discipline, and courage in the face of unexpected obstacles and surprising disappointments.
And yes, Mom, I’ll take your smart advice to continue to eat healthy foods and stay active; floss my teeth daily and get them cleaned regularly; put on hand lotion often; plan better so I’m always on time; see your nutritionist periodically; be well-read so I’m not “boring” (and can talk about more than sugar!); avoid potentially carcinogenic food (with grill marks); and, most of all, carefully drive the awesome car you found and generously bought for me a mere six weeks before you died.
Mom, I’ll also try to stop nodding my head and quit fiddling with my curly hair when people talk (because it makes them nervous); quit interrupting and listen better; and wear those kitchen gloves you gave me when I wash dishes (so my hands don’t get rough)!
Most of all, Mom, thank you for your two final, precious gifts, which meant the world to me. Thank you for calling me to say “I’m feeling very weak, but I want you to know that I love you very much.”
And I’m so glad that you told your rabbi—a few days before the cancer came to claim you—“Connie is a wonderful, loving, supportive, daughter with a heart of gold.” I’m very touched that you thought so highly of me, Mom, and I will try to live up to that opinion for the rest of my life.
Dearest Mom, I’m a far better, kinder, sweeter, more compassionate person because of you. Now, in your honor, I commit to developing the best of your qualities in me and to do my best to help many people around the world.
Dear reader, do you have any memories of your late or living Mom, Dad, son, daughter, brother, sister, in-laws, etc.? We’d love to have you share them with us here.
And what did you learn from my personal post?
Special thanks to Raeleen Sewell for the wonderful work of art (above). See her touching blog post, too, about missing her mom.

Reformed Sugar Addict Alec Baldwin Interviews Dr. Robert Lustig on “Here’s the Thing”

Alecbaldwin560Did you know that the formerly overweight actor Alec Baldwin is now a reformed sugar and carb addict, who used to consume “a fish-tanked sized bowl of pasta” and other sweets but now is a sugar-free crusader?
Alec Baldwin also now has a fascinating podcast, Here’s the Thing.
Learn more about Here’s the Thing now.
Check out this intriguing interview Alec Baldwin had with Dr. Robert Lustig, a pediatric endocrinologist at UC San Francisco, about our country’s addiction to sugar.
You can watch Alec Baldwin talk about his journey here.

Do You Crave Sugar or Sweetness?

Whenever I coach sugar addicts, I find that there’s something missing from their lives.
In other words, when sugar “calls out” to them, that’s really not what they need.
Sweet snack foods don’t fill you up in a substantive way. Instead, they deplete you and send you into a downwards spiral.
Rather, you — and most sugar addicts — need something else that’s more nourishing and nurturing.
So I inviteyou to think: What do you most crave? Sugar or genuine sweetness in your life?
Read my article on the Hay House Heal Your Life website to discover 3 tips on how to make your life sweeterlicious (my word for sweeter, delicious, scrumptious, luscious, and sensuous.)
Special thanks to CutestPaw for the adorable pooch image. I sure hope it’s okay to use. Very grateful! Check out this chariming CutestPaw site.
Make sure to send my article, “Is it Sugar You Crave … Or more sweetness in your days?” to your friends and loved ones? Then share your 3 biggest Ahahs!