Be kind to your body: lizards and pigeons included

A few weeks ago a woman posted a question on a social media platform. Apparently she had had a baby a year ago, was eating healthy, running and really trying to lose the baby weight. She had managed to lose most but the fat around her belly. How, she asked, could she get rid of that fat? It was gross and unattractive. I was saddened by this woman's hatred of her post-pregnancy body. I wrote a reply, advising her to be kind to the body that recently gave birth, quite a miracle. Many people agreed with me, advising her to be nice to herself.  Our bodies change as a result of childbirth and menopause. It was pretty soon after however, that I forgot that advice. I was in a yoga class, in Lizard pose, which in itself is not for the weak. Your forearms are on the floor, right next to your calf. I did not commend my body for twisting into this pose, I berated it. Looking at my back leg, all I saw was fat, bulging from my hip. I caught myself soon after, but the damage was done. I, who had just advised a woman to be kind to herself, had forgotten to be kind to myself. I was picking apart my body, and looking at its "weakness" rather than its strength. As a culture we are taught to pick apart our bodies. "Get firmer thighs in thirty days," one ad boasts, while another, "for plump lips try our amazing gloss." Not only are we fat, but our fat is in the wrong place. After years of eating healthy and exercising I am not immune. I bemoan the fact that I cannot wear high boots, cannot even get them over my calves. Instead of be grateful that I have the calf muscles of a football player, I grieve the loss of DSW boots. I guess it comes down to treating oneself the same as you would treat others. I would never tell another woman that she had big thighs or her breasts weren't perky enough. But I constantly repeat those messages to myself, to my body, this vehicle that runs 6 miles a day and can do a handstand. Next time I give advice, I need to sit back and ask whether or not I could take the advice I am giving. But for now, I will attempt to love my lizard, large calves and all. 

Rough Road Ahead

I stumbled upon this sign on my run the other morning, and I started thinking about how nice it would be if life came with warning signs. "Warning: Bitter Divorce Ahead," "Death of Beloved Pet Soon," "Job Loss Around Corner." Would I live my life any differently if I knew when the rough patches were coming? In 2008 when I quit my job to go back to school and work toward my Bachelor's degree, I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I could never have foreseen the years of looking for a job after college, or the second degree I needed to obtain to be gainfully employed in my chosen field. The journey was harder than I thought: four years of financial hardship and juggling school, commuting and raising my son, followed by four years of looking for a full-time permanent position in my chosen field. Maybe if I knew just how difficult before embarking, I would have never taken the leap into the unknown. That leap positively changed my life, however. I now have a career, a brand new job working with supportive people and two degrees. My college experience provided me with a challenge that my intellect craved, introduced me to areas of study I would have never known existed, and forced me to grow up. The job search forced me to completely turn  my life over to God, and the results were beyond my wildest dreams. I went from cleaning up after people and animals to teaching The Canterbury Tales. Would I have braved the rough roads if I knew that they weren't merely bumpy, but filled with tire-bursting craters? Probably not, fear of the unknown, and the comfort of the status quo would have kept me in place.  When do I let go of my brilliant plans and allow life to be a surprise? 

I passed the sign, continued down the road; the road that was freshly paved. It was not, like the sign had warned, rough. The mist lifted as I rounded the bend, revealing freshly baled hale and red-winged blackbirds. The scent of pine, grass and summer wildflowers hung in the air. And I was running. And it was good.

Decorating the Hallway

When one door closes, another door opens, so they say. That in between time, the transition period is often alluded to as the hallway. I have been in the hallway for a few years now, picking up temporary jobs here and there and obtaining my Bachelor's and Master's degrees, I have come to think of the hallway as a permanent space, a long narrow room that is in desperate need of some decoration. Maybe what I keep calling a transition (it does seem as if I have been saying I am in transition for a long time now) is not really a transition at all, it is the resting place for the moment. I keep waiting for the full time job, the marriage, the (insert huge life event here) and completely ignore the fact that there is merit in a so-called transition. There is movement, I don't seem to stand still, I am actively searching, seeking, changing. When I am in the hallway, I am moving from once place to another, I do not get complacent, I don't take a seat on the couch, kick my feet up and fall asleep. In the hallway I am searching for that small beam of light signifying an open door. What is behind that door a mystery and  when I am in the hallway I am in the mystery. Why not make that mystery a bit more comfortable, maybe some pictures on the wall, a vase filled with Spring flowers, my favorites, daisies and sunflowers, maybe with a few sprigs of baby's breath and eucalyptus? I could paint the walls a sunny yellow, and enjoy my time here. Today is a beautiful day: the sun is shining; I am working a few hours; I have enough food in the refrigerator; I have a man who loves me and will take me to dinner later today; and I have a beautiful space in which to live. I need to steep myself in the mystery. Will I be teaching full time some day, or does God have something different in store for me? Just for today, this moment, I will enjoy the mystery of it. 

Running Downhill

Uphill takes forever and no matter which direction I run, there always seems to be more up hills than down. Why? I guess because we take longer to run uphill. Downhill I speed up and it is over quickly. Same with life, the harder hills seem to take forever, but once you crest you can cruise down. It all comes down to this: is it worth the climb? If you ski, you might say yes. When I am running full speed down a hill, the wind in my hair and a smile on my face, I say hell yes. There are always going to be climbs, times throughout the journey where it is just so hard, when you are breathless and ready to collapse. For me, my mind wants to give up right before the crest, but I know if I just hang on, the view will present itself. I reach the top, legs sore, lungs burning, and slow for the descent, the delicious, glorious descent. The descent is why we run, that feeling of being alive, the absolute joy of losing control. It is over soon, and life returns back to normal, maybe a few gentle bumps, some flat open spaces, and a few twists and turns. What I need to remember, while in the midst of a life climb, is that the crest will appear, and the freedom of the downhill only comes after I climb. I worked hard to earn my college degrees, and the feeling of freedom, of joy and accomplishment after receiving that diploma...that is why I brave the hills. Today, jobless, I slowly make my way up another hill. I send out resumes, I search online databases, and I ask for help. I climb. I don't know when the crest will come, but for this one moment, right here and now, I believe I will make it up that hill, maybe with sore legs, but the downhill will be so much fun.

Spiritual Experimentation 101

I was pondering, as usual, wondering how I could balance turning my life over to God and taking concrete actions to create a life I love. What is my reality and what is it that I wish to happen in my life? Where does God's will fit into all? There are many spiritual paths, some  tell us to picture what we want in life and we will draw those experiences toward us. Some paths have a male God in the all powerful chair, arranging our lives to His suiting. Some speak of karma. How does one deal with the many theories and belief systems? I can read Mike Dooley, The Bible or a book on Twelve Step spirituality. I can visualize or pray. I do believe in a Higher Power and I know that when I allow that HP to guide me, things run smoother. But I also believe that life is what I make of it, if I am positive, I will draw in positive experiences. Judgment plays a role here, I know. 

I guess I am still in the experimentation phase. I know what I don't like, organized religions that preach hate, intolerance and a literal translation of the bible. But as for a clear spiritual path, mine is a bit overgrown. I believe that prayer and meditation work. I believe in a "God." I also believe that what I think or focus on is what I create in my life. Hodge Podge.

I heard someone say that when she follows God's will, life is easy, yet when she doesn't it feels as if there is a clear wall blocking the path. She still takes a sawzall out and attempts to continue, however the sawzall method always ends in disaster. Some people say that if it is God's will it will be easy, and if not, problems will arise. So what does all of this mean? What is the difference between my will and God's will? Was it God's will that prompted me to go to college and earn my Master's degree in teaching? I started out working toward an Associate's in Business, and then opportunities began to fall in my lap, the offer of a large scholarship here, an acceptance letter to a good college there, a part time job subbing here, and a little extra help with bills there.

 

Let's look at this scientifically, as sort of an experiment. In elementary school science class we are taught to follow the scientific method, to come up with a hypothesis, perform an experiment with controls, and form a conclusion. Maybe I can use this process for my questions concerning spirituality. 

Steps in the scientific process:

• Ask a Question - What is my system of spirituality? Do I even need to have a system?
• Do Background Research - Read what I can, come up with a list of beliefs and try to piece them together.
• Construct a Hypothesis - A spiritual hypothesis?
• Test Your Hypothesis by Doing an Experiment - Practice turning my will over and taking it back (I already do that.)
• Analyze Your Data and Draw a Conclusion - Not there yet.
• Communicate Your Results

Maybe a hodge podge works, maybe I can turn my life over to God and then meditate. If I change my attitudes, concentrate on the positive, what harm may come? Maybe spiritual matters cannot be put into a neat little system. Only time will tell. After all, I started writing this post a little confused. I am still confused.

A Poetry Experience

March has passed. At the beginning of the month I set out to write a poem per day, for the entire month and I was successful. Some days the poems were short and sweet, but toward the end I looked forward to a few minutes with a stack of word cards and a challenge, to write a poem. Not only is my notebook a little heavier, but my soul is a little lighter. Writing each day makes a difference. I am forced out of the day to day mundane details, into a world where anything could happen. And it did. I was transported to chapels in the middle of the woods, fields filled with milkweed and goldenrod, and hotel rooms in foreign countries. For the short time I was writing, I became a writer. And that felt amazing.

It is now April, and Spring is attempting a takeover, with some success. It is National Poetry Month, so maybe, just maybe I can continue the challenge, continue to explore other worlds with words. Here is yesterday's poem, to finish this much needed experiment (experience).

Dancing

Smell the rain,
sweet-scented clouds release
their torrent over hills -
misty vegetation - dandelion
greens. Milkweed pods
and goldenrod release
their fragrant centers.
A community of crickets
nestle into crevices -
And I -
fingers and toes
covered in mud begin
to dance down the aisle -
damp grass swaying in
the breeze -
in Earth's Chapel.

What's Eating You?

"If something is eating you, you got to find a way to use it," said the art teacher from the movie  Speak. This got me to thinking about just what is eating me (because something is) and how I can use it. 

So I have been sending out resumes for the career field I chose since February of 2011, and proceeded to spend 120,000$ on the education needed for said career. It is now March of 2014 and, countless resumes and cover letters and "no thank yous" later, I am still searching. Now granted I am not the only one, and English majors are a quarter per dozen (inflation,) and I know that I would have a job if I was, say a Physics major with a minor in biochemistry. I also know that "rejection is God's protection." But I am also tired of not being able to support myself. So that is what is eating me. So how can I use this frustration / anger / uncertainty / apathy that is beginning to eat away at my stomach lining? Create something would appear to be the answer. As a writer my impulse is to grab a pen and create a sonnet, or possibly a haiku. But I also know that mucking around in the bog of complex emotions won't get me far. I have prayed, I have shared, I have knit hats, I have written poems and blog posts. The act of creating is cathartic, but if a tree falls in the woods, does it make a sound? If the resulting creation is not shared or read or seen, does it exist? 

Today a motivational speaker / life coach came into school to speak with students in our internship program. He talked about just how much we really don't know about the world and how there is a perfect career path for all of us. He had us break down what we loved about our jobs (the students, their internships) and what we don't want in our workplace. He went on to explain that sometimes we can find meaningful work in the unexpected places. I want to be a teacher, but if I were to break that career down into pieces, I would need work that involves teaching, collaboration, creating and connecting the dots. It would involve working with young people (not too young) and it would be a new adventure everyday. I would have autonomy and creative license, I would use my research skills frequently and I would have opportunities for reading and writing. Now a classroom teacher is one way to go. But maybe I am missing something. Maybe in that space of limbo I am meant to cast a wider net. Maybe the frustration / anger / uncertainty / apathy is lurking for good reason. I don't know. But I know that I don't know and I guess, just for today, that is enough.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel

A brilliant man said today, "there is always a light at the end of every tunnel." So many times I forget as I am experiencing strife, that I always come out of that difficulty and into the light. However I can always choose to stay in the tunnel, to stay in the darkness or the problem. The light is scary sometimes, it is bright and many times it is an unknown. I believe I have made it to the other side of a period in my life that I have perceived to be difficult. After graduating from college I was plunged into unemployment, without the check. I was without an identity and an income. I wrote about it (on this blog), I shared it, I prayed, I read and I learned (slowly mind you) to slow down and savor each moment. I realized that I don't necessarily need to thrive in a fast-paced, workaholic environment. It is possible that the pace I held for years, ever since I began working at fourteen,was masking the woman I am, or the woman I want to be. We live in a productivity based culture, the more you do, the more you make, the more you achieve, the more you are esteemed. If I were to say to you, "I spent three hours meditating today," you might think, "ok, whatever." If I were to say, "I spent three hours at work today and invented the antidote for warts," you might congratulate me. Doing is valued. Being is not. But this summer I was forced to Be. I was forced to sit back, after I had done the footwork (action is required), and allow my Higher Power to take over. Forcing solutions backfired. Quiet contemplation prevailed. Today I am choosing to leave the tunnel and to walk out with my friends and my God. The light is bright and my eyes haven't quite adjusted, but I have faith that soon I will know which way to turn.

"The Power of Intention"

Recently Hay House sent "Daily Grace" a copy of The Power of Intention: Learning to Co-create Your World Your Way by Wayne Dyer. This edition of the 2004 book is beautifully illustrated by Jui Ishida. The website states, "Dr. Wayne W. Dyer has researched intention as a force in the universe that allows the act of creation to take place. This book explores intention—not as something you do—but as an energy you’re a part of. We’re all intended here through the invisible power of intention. This is the first book to look at intention as a field of energy that you can access to begin co-creating your life with the power of intention." Having been a fan of Dr. Dyer's for years, the words on the pages were familiar and inspirational. What impressed me  however, was the artwork and design of this edition. I remembered buying my first copy of You Can Heal Your Life by Louise Hay with its gorgeous pages. Before this starts to sound like an ad for my beloved authors I wish to point out the power of the printed word. Books are special, growing up I collected books, carefully signing my name on the cover before inserting a library card into the back for stamping with its due date. Books engage the senses, sight, touch, and smell. Walk into a used bookstore and you will know of what I speak. I bought a copy of Wordsworth's poetry at an antiquarian bookstore that was published in 1904. The cover was decorated with gold and mauve details, the paper was high quality, the book was printed with care. Picking up a beautiful book is like enjoying a cup of coffee in Italy. The quality is present and the experience of drinking is as important as the product. For me, it is the same with books. I like to have a tactile experience with books, I want to feel the paper, and feast my eyes on the words as I turn the pages. I watch as booksellers are beginning to push digital books and feel a sense of loss. Yes, technology will take over the book world, but at what cost? Reading is an experience, and with certain books it is a special experience. I can read online, yes, but give me a book, a roaring fire and comfy chair and you have given me heaven. So back to intention. Dyer explains how to use the power of intention to create a fulfilling life. He said, "Intention is a force in the Universe, and everything and everyone is connected to this invisible force." What I put out, I receive. This I am constantly learning, my recent exam experience (see previous post) confirms this. Dr. Dyer's book, along with many others, shows me ways to continue working with intention. Back to reading.