Under the Ferris Wheel Lights
By Jennifer Kreatsoulas, PhD, C-IAYT, Founder
Bright shades of blue, purple, and green lit up a dark summer sky as the Ferris wheel paused to unload and load passengers. I stood near the entrance of the ride, the same way my grandparents did when I was a little girl. How I wished they were still alive to be here with me, witnessing my daughters (ages 6 and 4 –many years ago now) in their pink hoodies climb onto the ride with their dad and their sheer joy to be here on a summer night. Everywhere I looked—the sand, the waves, the sky—I carried my grandparents with me, and now I wanted to make unforgettable memories with my own family here in Ocean City, New Jersey.
All around the bustling boardwalk, I heard laughter, chatter, babies crying, music, and the rattling of a nearby roller coaster on its tracks. I watched my girls point out the ocean as they glided higher. I closed my eyes and inhaled the cool sea air deep into my lungs. All at once, I could access the joy in watching my children’s excitement along with the sadness of missing my grandparents. In my mind’s eye, I saw heard grandfather’s laugh and my grandmother’s loving smile. Many moons ago I had stood in this spot with them, watching the Ferris wheel light up the night.
As I tracked my family going around the second time, the delicious smell of powdered sugar on a funnel cake caught my attention, followed by the warm aroma of a freshly baked soft pretzel. I breathed in the smells, and my mind went to what flavor of ice cream I wanted to enjoy with my family after the Ferris wheel ride. Just as I decided on chocolate and vanilla with rainbow sprinkles, it occurred to me that when my family had gone to Ocean City in the past, I was too preoccupied with whether or not to get sprinkles on my ice cream, what would be “safe” to order for breakfast the next morning, and where to find a salad for lunch. Food choices had occupied my thoughts 24/7, leaving no room for much else.
Those years, going on vacation and eating boardwalk food felt challenging, often to the point of impossible. I needed a lot of support from my husband to get through, which meant staying honest with myself in real time about the struggles I was facing. In my determination to protect my daughters from my embattled relationship with food, I often chose to eat the things I was most afraid of because those were the foods my daughters were eating. It was important to me to normalize their food choices and enjoyment. But this year, I too craved the enjoyment of delicious ice cream, and I gave myself permission to have both the craving and the pleasure.
The yellow car holding my family took its third and final voyage around the Ferris wheel. The girls’ ringlet curls blew in the cool air. I wrapped my hands around the straps of my gray backpack and sensed its weight against my back. It was like an anchor, keeping me in the sights, sounds, and smells of the moment. From my spot, gazing into the lit-up night sky and sensing the endless waves of the vast ocean nearby, I felt an immense sense of peace.
As I watched my family climb out of the Ferris wheel and approach me, I was aware of many emotions converging inside of me. I felt joy when I saw my family’s smiles, sadness because I missed my grandparents, and peace within myself. I allowed myself to embrace each emotion. The feelings did not fill me up, making me “full.” Rather, I named them, and they flowed through me. Here was one of the aha moments on my healing journey: I could hold more than one feeling. Once I gave myself permission to feel, a space opened on the other side.
When we are spinning comparisons in our minds—to others or to ourselves—we are not in the here and now. We are somewhere else, disconnected from the sights, textures, and richness of reality. Instead, we are afloat in thoughts, worries, and doubts. We wrestle with the past or future, which, according to the teachings of yoga, only leads to suffering because we want to be somewhere other than where we are: the present moment.
My present-moment connection at the Ferris wheel that evening allowed me to notice the sound of the ocean, a wave from my daughters on the Ferris wheel, smiles from my husband, memories of eating ice cream with my grandfather, and memories of holding hands with my grandmother as we strolled along the water’s edge. And once my family was off the ride, it also allowed me to take initiative to lead the way down the boardwalk toward the ice cream shop my grandparents used to take me to, making new memories with my family while being present to all the emotions of the moment—a true gift of recovery.
Practice: Be Here Now
Recovery is much more than sticking to a meal plan, putting down a drink, or abstaining from compulsive behavior. For sustainable healing and restoration to occur, it is important to try new ways of really living, moment to moment. Let’s use the senses to enter the present moment with fresh eyes. Take five to fifteen minutes for this, and if your mind wanders off, just begin again with the next step.
1. Start in a beautiful and quiet place where you can rest in nature. Alternatively, find a comfortable seat and bring up a memory of a scenic location.
2. With your eyes (or in your mind’s eye, reflecting on a memory), take in all that you can see. Scan the area for colors, light, movement, and stillness.
3. Now close or soften the eyes, going inward and taking a few full breaths. Listen to the sounds that are unique to this present moment. Let the sound come to the fore front of your awareness.
4. Bring in the scents greeting your nose. These are always changing and will be different whether you’re on a mountain, in the forest, or near the ocean.
5. With eyes open or closed, feel the outer surface of your body; the skin, temperature, and elements are all coexisting here and now.
6. From the top of your skull, scan down your face, neck, torso, limbs, hands, and feet. With every breath, know that you are safe in the present moment.
7. In this peaceful place (or in your memory), once again notice everything you can about what the moment holds. Take it in through your senses. Feel it in your hands. Look around with willing eyes and absorb all the richness that exists in the present moment.
8. Stay in this place for as long as you like. Perhaps bring a slight smile to your face as a gesture of appreciation for all the moment held for you.
If you struggle with feeling overrun by the eating disorder and are rarely present because of it, I invite you to check out a few opportunities that may feel comforting and supportive.
Consider incorporating Yoga Therapy into your recovery journey, where we can work together on self-worth and other themes that are important to you.
Join me on Wednesdays from 2pm to 2:30 pm EST for the free Connection Call on Zoom for more support and conversation with others who truly get it.