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. 

Resolve This

Resolution - a resolve, a decision or determination. The act of resolving or determining upon an action, method, procedure etc (dictionary.com). It is New Year's Eve, and you know what that means. Millions of people will resolve to get fit, quit smoking, publish a world class novel, find the meaning of life, and discover the secret to happiness, all within the next 365 days. By February 1, however, these resolutions are all forgotten, the pounds are still gently swaying on our hips, we haven't written more than 15 words of that novel, and we really have no clue how to find happiness. If I do something differently, if I change, if I add, if I quit, then all will be right with the world and myself. The very word "resolution" conjures up an image of forcing, it is a determination, a decision to do something. Then it is our job to follow through. There is so much pressure to begin these resolutions on the first of the year, with a clean, fresh slate to work with. Why do most of us falter and begin skipping our daily trip to the gym on January 8, or buy that pack of cigarettes?

I have been successful in carrying out New Year's resolutions. Last year I resolved to sparkle every day, and yes, every day I brushed on glitter, I did not miss a single day. I am not saying that resolutions are fruitless. I will say however that we need to change our resolutions, or outer changes, to intentions, or inner changes.

Intention - a purpose or goal, aim (dictionary.com). An intention comes from deep inside, we have purpose, a goal to meet. This year I intend to be kinder to myself. I will pay attention to the negative voice inside my head. This intentions does not involve lifting more weights or completing a triathlon, but as a result of being nicer to myself I might make healthier choices. When I set an intention, if I fall off the horse, I can grab the stirrup and heave myself up again. After all, it is an inside job, no messy gym memberships or costly hypnosis involved. And the intention can change as I change. Yes it is all semantics, but there is enough pressure at this time of year to "fix" ourselves. What if we aren't broken? What if we are perfect the way we are at this moment in time? Grab that moment and go within. How can you be kinder, gentler, more loving today? Make that an intention, and have a brilliant New Year.

Engaging in Controversy

I know I shouldn't do it, but sometimes the appeal is there: the act of defending one's honor, the adrenaline, the irritation and self righteousness that surge through the body. Sometimes I just want a fight. The entire interaction is covered in my other blog: Grateful Girl Goes Vegan. I will not get into it here, other than saying that I engaged in controversy, and it felt good - until it didn't.

Self righteous anger, sometimes it can be delicious. I believe that it is a human trait to need to be right. After all, so much violence is perpetrated because of disagreement; wars are fought and millions of people have died because some people think that they are right; that their way is the only way. Self righteous is defined as "confidence of one's own rightness, especially when smugly moralistic and intolerant of the opinions and behaviors of others." The word originated in 1670-80, Good thing, as the Salem witch trials were right around the corner.

Why the need to be right? Mel Schwartz wrote an article entitled "Why Is It So Important To Be Right," in Psychology Today. He said:

Our educational system is rooted in the construct of right and wrong. We are rewarded for what are deemed to be correct answers and the ensuing higher grades, which generally lead to more successful lives. Being right affirms and inflates our sense of self-worth. As students we learn to avoid as best we can the embarrassment of being wrong. Getting the right answer becomes the primary purpose of our education. Isn't it regrettable that this may be inconsistent with actually learning?

We go through life being either right or wrong. Education reformers spout the standardized test movement, reinforcing this black / white mentality. Is it any wonder that we grow into either Democrats or Republicans, Pro Choice or Pro Life, for gun control or against it, and on and on. If we are not right, then we must be wrong.

I wanted to, I needed to be right. After all, I had compassion in mind when I began the argument. He was being mean to other people. What ended up happening, was that I engaged in the same behavior, I needed to be right, and he needed to be right. In the end, no opinions were changed. I am still a vegan and he still eats bacon and hates Muslims. There, I have continued the controversy by judging another human being. What happens when the ego steps aside, and I listen to another person? Maybe I can see that we are really the same, we are both afraid, afraid to be wrong, afraid to go against our own ethical code, afraid of being judged or excluded. My opponent is really just a mirror image of myself. And he is taking up too much space in my head without paying rent. So for today, I will let go of this controversy. I cannot make anyone abstain from eating meat, nor can anyone change my mind about the vegan lifestyle I follow. For this moment I will accept the world as it is, flaws and all.

Looking For Balance on the Equinox

The autumnal equinox was yesterday, a day where light and dark are balanced. It also signals the beginning of autumn, a season here in the northeast of great change and beauty, foretelling the months of harsh weather and darkness. I asked myself, as I was on my daily run: Am I living a balanced life today? Am I balancing the active doing part with rest and inner searching?

I have written about balance before, on numerous occasions. It is a concept that has always eluded me. Right now I am traversing through the world of underemployment, so I have more time available to meditate, run, practice yoga and eat home cooked healthy meals. But what happens when that forty hour a week position becomes a reality? What will I have to let go of in order to take care of my body's basic needs, such as actually sleeping. It would be nice if I could survive on five hours a night, but alas, I am an eight hour gal. 

If I create a blue print for a perfect day, maybe I can adjust it when I do start working longer days, using a mathematical formula perhaps? If today I spend one hour running and one hour in yoga, if my time reduces by 50%, would a half hour of running and half hour of yoga still meet my needs? Here I begin to overthink and stop paying attention to what my body needs. Part of what the Autumn equinox teaches, is to first come to a place of balance, and slowly, minute by minute, begin to slow down as winter approaches. In this world of doing doing doing, we tend to ignore our bodies and the signals we receive from them. Winter is a time to sleep longer, go within, and find the peace and quiet in the dark. Our cave person ancestors weren't hunting and gathering at 7pm in the middle of winter. They were huddled around a fire, perhaps quietly making spears. 


Perhaps the secret to a balanced life begins with paying attention to the rhythms of my body. To sleep when I need sleep, to run when I am restless, and to sit and meditate when my mind needs calming. But how does one do that in the "real" world? First, when time begins to become scarce, I must look for time drains. Honestly, how many hours a day are spent watching Netflix? These precious hours can be used more efficiently. One hour of yoga versus one hour of "Ally McBeal?" No contest there, the yoga, will benefit exponentially more than mindless television. Just for today I will practice some balance, I will pay attention to what my body needs and maybe I will actually listen. 

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.

The Straw That Broke The Camel's Back

The phrase derives from an Arab proverb, a cataclysmic event cause by something inconsequential. This saying has also lead to the phrase, "the last straw." Aside from the animal cruelty aspect, which is slightly disturbing, it is great wisdom. So many times we traverse difficult roads, I know I have, deaths, divorce, fire, debt, unemployment, sickness and struggle. While we struggle our friends surround us with love, support and we seem to make it through. There are times however, when something so small, so insignificant that it shouldn't really affect us, happens, that we take a nosedive into oblivion. The straw, that one final straw. I know it holds true for me, I will sail through hard times, with my family at my side, and then the dry cleaners are closed when I really need that shirt for a job interview...or that last check I wrote toppled my checking account into oblivion...that I fall. 

Why can't the camel just say, "back off?" Because we are not in control, and that is the hard part. I adore control, I love it when things go my way, when I am right, when I get the job I want, the man I want, and the jeans I want fit. I love it when my life, a theatrical event, goes off smoothly, when it calls for a standing ovation. But this is not the way of life, it is messy, complicated and doesn't always go our way. We muddle through the best that we can and hope that when the final straw falls, we have family and friends there to pick us up, give us a box of Puffs Plus, and send us on our way. 

My dog is at the vet right now, under anesthesia. She was clawed by another dog at the dog park. I do not have the money for it, and the other dog's owner can only contribute a portion. Last night I felt that helplessness as I laid awake at 1 am (I never have sleep issues) worried about buying groceries and paying bills, while looking for a job and keep my house in order. The vet bill was the straw, that moment when I lost control over my tightly budgeted life. I couldn't write it off, and it wasn't going away. The only thing left was prayer, and I prayed and fell asleep. It seems so simple this morning, prayer. Please help me juggle life, please help me with this personal straw. I know that I won't be underemployed forever. I know that my degree and all of the hard work I spent attaining that degree will be useful some day. It is just not today, not according to my time frame. Today I need to focus on the simplicity of prayer, not the please help me get what I want prayer, but the help me to go through this with dignity and grace.

God

Help me to travel this path with grace and dignity

Help me to allow you to guide me while I walk.

Help me to slow down and witness the beauty of the moment.

Help me to work with you and not against you.

Help me to love and to allow and to relax into this day.

Give me some space please...

Lately I have been noticing something about myself. I need space, physical space, psychic space and emotional space. I don't know if it is because I am one of those highly sensitive folk, but I become physically uncomfortable around loud people, or anyone either in a vehicle or in person, coming too close. I tend to pick up on what others are feeling (tailgaters and their anger) and get easily distracted (clicking of someone typing on a laptop in class). Is this the ramblings of a mad woman? Is it because I am a country girl, and grew up with a big backyard and the woods in which to play? Or maybe it is a personality flaw, that uber sensitivity that allows me to keep others at bay (black flies don't count!). 

I think as a woman, my culture has taught me to be small, to take up as little space as possible. Look at the passengers in a  bus or a train, the men have splayed legs, taking up more space than allotted, and the women usually cross their legs, in effect, making themselves smaller. I have issues with anything or anyone that comes too close, be it a black fly (mean little suckers that dive bomb and attack in Spring) or the man standing behind me in the grocery line.  

Elaine Aron has written many books about the Highly Sensitive Person, approximately 15 -20% of the population who notice subtleties, is very intuitive, is sensitive to pain and to noise, among other things. Here is a list of traits on Elaine's website. When I took the quiz on this site, I came up overwhelmingly highly sensitive. It can be a hindrance (I am scared of car horns for what they do to my nerves!) as well as an asset. I can "read" people's emotions, and that can be very helpful, saving me from many scrapes. 

Personal space is a huge trigger for many people. On her website, Dr. Juith Orloff writes about how to cope with space invasion. "Why can personal space intrusions make our blood boil? Aside from being obnoxious, rude, dangerous, or unhealthy, they violate a primitive instinct that we’re not safe or respected. When we experience such violations, our brains actually react as if we were still back in 50,000 BC. Research shows that personal space disputes such as neighbor feuds about overgrown foliage are evolutionarily prompted responses aimed at guarding resources and ensuring survival." She  has a list of personal space invasions on her website. These include: telemarketers, loud cars, air pollution, tailgaters and graffiti. Knowing these triggers helps us to let them go when they pop up. Why do people get so close? Are we programmed or is it a personal issue?

Time Magazine answered the question: Why is so uncomfortable to be close to strangers? "Evolution seems to have programmed this discomfort via a brain structure called the amygdalae, a pair of almond-shaped brain regions deep within each temporal lobe that control fear and the processing of emotion. It's your amygdalae that keeps you from getting so close to another person that he could easily reach out, gouge an eye, and then drag your woman off by her hair." So we can blame it all on our ancestors, something we, as humans, excel at.

So I am a highly sensitive person that has a highly developed amygdalae. No one will be gouging my eyes out anytime soon, just please, if you see me driving, cute little blue shoe-sized car, don't honk. I am off to the woods.

Am I a Republicanophobe?

I am scared to write this post. First I am afraid to admit that I am prejudiced. But more importantly I am afraid that you, the reader, might be a Republican, and Republicans scare me. Why? Because, like other people who are prejudiced, I have an all or nothing mentality. Now is when you might get angry with me. But please don't yell, I am attempting to come to the root of my prejudice and abolish it. This morning, on Facebook, someone told me not to go all "right-wing" on him. It was, to me, a staunch tree-hugging, animal rights supporting, pro-choice, educated woman, an insult.

When I picture a Republican, I picture a gun-toting, anti-woman, racist,  homophobe. And people with guns scare me, and sexist, racist homophobes scare me. Therefore, Republicans scare me. And it all really just comes down to fear, fear of the unknown. I have tried to understand Republican economic theory, but I am a child of the 70's and I watched as the trickle down never trickle down. I read about huge corporations paying nothing in taxes and hiding their billions in profits in off-shore accounts. I watch as so-called Christians ignore the poverty stricken in this country, "they should work harder, they are moochers." When I picture a Republican I picture a person, devoid of compassion for those less fortunate. I watch as Republicans vote against the Equal Pay Act, as they cut assistance for needy children, and as they demonize women and teachers. This is what I see, hence my all or nothing mentality. I am no better than a racist, I let fear of the "other" guide my opinions. It comes down to the fear of the unknown. As a woman living in a sheltered community, I do not come in contact with many Republicans.

How can I abolish this extreme prejudice? It all comes down to the "us against them" mentality. If I focus on the differences, how can I begin to find compassion for the other, that person who holds different beliefs than I? After all, the world would be a boring place if we all believed the same things. The first step then, is to find common ground. So, my dear Republican reader, kindly help me out, help me to find common ground. I am a runner, I know, left turn, bear with me. As I runner, I race. When I go to races I run with thousands of other runners. We connect through our mutual similarities. I have no clue what political party my fellow racers belong to, we come for the common joy of running. When I pass a runner on the road, I am kind, I connect, I wave, I move over or slow down, after all it is a fellow runner. Turn right again, what commonalities can I find with my fellow Republicans? If I can find this, I might be able to soften around my opinions, my fears and my Republicanophobia.

From: http://www.informationisbeautiful.net/visualizations/left-vs-right-world/

Life's a Beach

It is my annual trek to the beach, such a strange custom. Everyone has their own temporary space. We get to see just how many of us have beer bellies and stretch marks. We get to see how our own bodies will look when we age and how they looked twenty years ago. We get to watch children either get back up or cry after being knocked down by a wave. Our creations are demolished when the tide turns. We sleep, we eat, we play and swim...soaking up the rays of the sun. We know it is  harmful, uv rays, jellyfish even a shark or two. But we flock here and watch the waves, feel the breeze and soak up the warmth of the sun. I like to listen to conversations around me, they are handy ideas for plots or characters for short stories. Today my neighbors speak Russian and I can turn off my curious brain and enjoy the sound of the waves. I will miss this when I go home, but the Berkshire hills will beckon me and gently envelop me in her arms...home. But for today I will soak in the rays, watch people of all shapes and sizes, read a trashy novel and return to myself, someone who has been neglected with the busyness of school and work. My space on this beach is temporary, someone will inhabit it tomorrow, there will be new people to watch, new waves to gently lull my tired body to sleep. Until then...

That where there is discord, I may bring harmony

The other translated line of this prayer reads "unity" instead of harmony. I will stick with the version of the prayer I have been using until this point. The word "discord" has multiple meanings according to the dictionary, a lack of agreement between people or ideas, quarreling, or in musical terns, dissonance, or lack of harmony. This English major loves it when phrases are open for interpretation, people are unique, what's wrong with individual interpretations of literature? To digress for a moment with a story, I had an English Professor that insisted that his interpretation of a short story to be the author's intended meaning. I had another reading and was curious, so I wrote the writer, who answered me promptly. The professor was wrong. Which brings me to my concept of internal discord. Why, years later, do I delight in the fact that this pompous man was wrong? Clearly I have a wee bit of internal discord. See a previous entry for my attempts at forgiveness. Saint Francis, 1182 - 1226, was a monk who founded the order of Franciscans, and whose basilica stands today at Assisi, in Umbria Italy. For a great book on the life of Saint Francis, read Valerie Martin's Salvation: Scenes from the Life of St. Francis. He is believed to have studied with the Troubadours (a composer and performer of Occitan lyric poetry in the High Middle Ages.) Saint Francis loved to sing and it is fitting that one of the most famous images of the monk is a scene of the Preaching to the Birds. In musical terms the prayer might ask for harmony where one finds dissonance. This might be the answer to a complex issue, that of, how can we as individuals bring harmony to a world filled with chaos, cruelty and abuse? I cannot end world hunger, stop wars, or cure disease. It is hard for me to hold my temper during high volume traffic let alone bring peace to warn torn countries. Maybe the answer is to add a little music to one's life, a little harmony, something to uplift the spirit. Certain studies have shown that certain types of music actually alter the cells in our bodies, making them healthier, music such as Pachelbel Canon in D for instance. Stop, breathe, listen, and bring harmony where there has been discord, just for today, just for you.