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.

Creating a Spiritual Practice

Creating a spiritual practice is much like painting a masterpiece. You sit down at the canvas and just pick up

the brush. Where do you begin? First some colors must be gathered, mixed, prepared...then maybe just maybe you feel as if you should start painting with cerulean blue. Just take a dab of paint at first, try not to go too heavy handed in the beginning. Now remember, this will not be done overnight. I have been creating a spiritual practice for years now. Layers of paint have added, colors mixed, a little turpentine comes in handy when something didn't work.

I am writing this as I am reentering society, "reality" as some might call it, after a week on Cape Cod. I spent this week running, attending spiritual group meetings, walking my dogs, daily yoga classes, eating healthy vegan food, and relaxing on the beach. Most of the week was spent in silence, on my own. It was a beautiful week, and by the end, I began to feel like a person again. It was a week I would have never been able to take had I been hired at my "dream job." It felt as if my spiritual practice was supercharged. I already have a daily practice: prayer in the morning, running meditation, and spiritual meetings with others. I also write a daily gratitude list and eat vegan food (a practice of non violence.) But the week on my own, near the ocean and an abundance of yoga classes and running trails, allowed me to, as Emeril would say, kick it up a notch. And today, as I have no full time employment as of yet, I can continue this daily practice. But what happens when I find employment? The hour of yoga and two hours of running, followed by prayer and meditation and an evening walk with the dogs, might not fit so well when working 8 hours and commuting. Plus, I am adding too much to my daily practice at one time. I have noticed, that a habit sticks when I add one at a time, and a doable goal. If I were to say, plan on adding a full yoga practice while increasing mileage and meditation time while simultaneously juggling a life, a relationship, a grown child, animals, a household and family and friends, I might internally combust. Or the new routine would just not stick.

What color can I add to my canvas today? Might it be a gentle stretch in the morning while I am brushing my teeth, and maybe a few minutes of alternate nostril breathing to calm my mind with the goal of continuing to take at least one yoga class per week?  I would love to end each day, feeling just like I did while on my retreat. But life is what happens when we are making plans. And a full immersion in a complicated spiritual practice might not pay the bills or make my partner happy. Just for today I will add a few small pieces from my retreat into my daily practice, see how the color looks on my already paint splattered canvas. I can always add more paint later. And it only takes a small shift to make a change.

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.

Bucket Lists

Creating a bucket list... I worked this summer with teens in a leadership program. We did different exercises on setting goals and even made bucket lists. The kids were amazing, some knew exactly what they wanted to accomplish, but others didn't and had to put effort into creating a list of future endeavors. Sitting here today on a Saturday afternoon with a YA novel in hand I realize that I do not have a list of goals myself. I spent the last few years working on my degrees both Bachelor and Master's. I am in the process of job hunting so that seems to be my focus. But what about other areas in my life? Sure I have signed up for another half marathon but it is something I can do and have done. What are my other goals, dreams etc. A student asked me what I like to do in free time the other day. It was hard to think of anything beside read. Or running. What are my heart's desires? To find gainful fulfilling creative employment, yes. But work only accounts for a certain number of hours per week. As I sit here on a Saturday afternoon I know that I need more, more to work for or towards. That is who I am. Yes I know that it is nice to sit and be, be aware of the present moment and all it has to offer. Yet I am a goal setter, a planner. I can sit but I also need to move. Today I will begin a list: dogsledding in Vermont, run another marathon or maybe a tough mudder, learn how to cook tofu well, travel to Florence get my Ph.D in medieval studies, learn and speak Italian fluently, hike the Cinque Terre. It is a start. Time to open my eyes and see what the world has to offer.