I feel a certain kind of freedom these days. I'm not working, I'm worn out from preparing for this overseas move, and I'm suffering from allergies. But I feel free from the need to look pretty and put-together when I leave the house! I seldom wear earrings, I throw on whatever clothes are not packed away, and I haven't replaced my black eyeliner pencil in a couple months. I've gone on errands bald and I never have shoes that match my outfit. This is the freedom I've aspired to for a long time.
But I've realized that not caring is not the same as being free. Just because I don't care about how I look doesn't mean I've accepted and come to love how I look. But I don't feel bad about myself, just the same. Maybe this situation, by which I mean being 75% packed for a move and having pressing issues to resolve before we go, is giving me the practice I need. It's actually not difficult to live my life without looking my best all the time. Fancy that.
Maybe I am growing into a certain kind of acceptance. Maybe, in this transition time, I'm realizing that I can live with, and enjoy, a lot less than I thought.
This could be just the stepping stone I need to move to a stage of love and preference for a more natural expression of who I am and how I have grown out of my culture's standards of beauty.
Showing posts with label self awareness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self awareness. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Modest Me
I love fall for so many reasons, not the least of which is this:
(from Fashionista Trends)
Fall outifts! No pressure to walk around in itsy bitsy teeny weeny non-clothes. 'Tis the season of sweaters, jeans, scarves...and minimal skin exposure.
When I was a kid, I was known for rocking the "old lady" style. Long skirts, long pants, long sleeves. Modesty to the point where family members took it upon themselves to remind me that I was a girl and could show it once in awhile.
A late, late, late bloomer, I finally started wearing tank-tops (gasp!) in college. And short shorts. Once I even walked around in a sports bra with nothing else on top. Scandalous, I know.
For the last few summers, I have actually felt pretty good about my body and my ability to wear clothes that show a lot more skin than I ever thought I'd be comfortable showing. I mean, nothing trashy. But still, my dresses were shorter than ever before, and my shoulders saw a lot more sun than usual. This summer, however, I felt overexposed. Maybe it's because I work with a lot of Muslim women, and my daughter goes to a school where so many different cultures are represented (in large part through fashion choices). Or it could be that my daughter is getting older, and I want her to be protected. Maybe it came with dressing for a professional work environment. Maybe it's just because I'm getting older. Whatever the reason, I'm getting sick of seeing skin. It takes no creativity to bare your body. But to dress modestly in a way that is still lovely and feminine? That is more artful.
(I truly hope that the picture below is not offensive to any Muslims. I only want to illustrate a point about the contrast between differing standards of clothing for women.)
Look at this picture:
Maybe it's just me, but I find the modest clothing so strikingly beautiful. An outfit like that shifts the focus from the body to the overall design.
Please understand, this is not meant to be a religious commentary. I am totally unqualified to write about Islamic codes of ethics or laws. I'm also not trying to bring judgement down on women who like to show some skin. I actually do think it's important for women of all shapes, sizes and colors to challenge the idea of which body types are "allowed" to be shown off publicly. I'm just trying to redefine what I personally see as beautiful. My own definition of what a beautiful woman "should" look like dictates my buying decisions and my level of confidence as I live in the world. I don't want to be boxed into thinking that I can only be identified as a beautiful woman if I wear clothes that reveal my feminine body.
It has been important for my growth to be able to wear clothes that make me feel lovely--and to recognize that I really do deserve to be lovely. Now I'm simply owning the fact that I really do appreciate my body enough to guard it. I realize that I actually don't want men in general to see too much of my unclothed skin.
And I really think society is coming back around to more modesty. Say what you will--a quick web search will show you that modest fashion is making a huge comeback. Not that it ever went away, but it's getting more glory now.
I'm so looking forward to putting beautiful outfits together for the fall and winter--outfits that are aesthetically pleasing, colorful, creative, and reflective of my personality and values. I'll try to post pictures of what I come up with. Until then, check these looks out!
You can't go wrong if you model your look after Princess Kate.
Why not bring the jumpsuit back?
(Check out this great modest fashion blog, Clothed Much, here.)
Sweater dress. Oh yes.
(Shop for modest fashion at Mikarose!)
Bare or covered, be beautiful you. Be true to your values.
(from Fashionista Trends)
Fall outifts! No pressure to walk around in itsy bitsy teeny weeny non-clothes. 'Tis the season of sweaters, jeans, scarves...and minimal skin exposure.
When I was a kid, I was known for rocking the "old lady" style. Long skirts, long pants, long sleeves. Modesty to the point where family members took it upon themselves to remind me that I was a girl and could show it once in awhile.
A late, late, late bloomer, I finally started wearing tank-tops (gasp!) in college. And short shorts. Once I even walked around in a sports bra with nothing else on top. Scandalous, I know.
For the last few summers, I have actually felt pretty good about my body and my ability to wear clothes that show a lot more skin than I ever thought I'd be comfortable showing. I mean, nothing trashy. But still, my dresses were shorter than ever before, and my shoulders saw a lot more sun than usual. This summer, however, I felt overexposed. Maybe it's because I work with a lot of Muslim women, and my daughter goes to a school where so many different cultures are represented (in large part through fashion choices). Or it could be that my daughter is getting older, and I want her to be protected. Maybe it came with dressing for a professional work environment. Maybe it's just because I'm getting older. Whatever the reason, I'm getting sick of seeing skin. It takes no creativity to bare your body. But to dress modestly in a way that is still lovely and feminine? That is more artful.
(I truly hope that the picture below is not offensive to any Muslims. I only want to illustrate a point about the contrast between differing standards of clothing for women.)
Look at this picture:
Maybe it's just me, but I find the modest clothing so strikingly beautiful. An outfit like that shifts the focus from the body to the overall design.
Please understand, this is not meant to be a religious commentary. I am totally unqualified to write about Islamic codes of ethics or laws. I'm also not trying to bring judgement down on women who like to show some skin. I actually do think it's important for women of all shapes, sizes and colors to challenge the idea of which body types are "allowed" to be shown off publicly. I'm just trying to redefine what I personally see as beautiful. My own definition of what a beautiful woman "should" look like dictates my buying decisions and my level of confidence as I live in the world. I don't want to be boxed into thinking that I can only be identified as a beautiful woman if I wear clothes that reveal my feminine body.
It has been important for my growth to be able to wear clothes that make me feel lovely--and to recognize that I really do deserve to be lovely. Now I'm simply owning the fact that I really do appreciate my body enough to guard it. I realize that I actually don't want men in general to see too much of my unclothed skin.
And I really think society is coming back around to more modesty. Say what you will--a quick web search will show you that modest fashion is making a huge comeback. Not that it ever went away, but it's getting more glory now.
I'm so looking forward to putting beautiful outfits together for the fall and winter--outfits that are aesthetically pleasing, colorful, creative, and reflective of my personality and values. I'll try to post pictures of what I come up with. Until then, check these looks out!
You can't go wrong if you model your look after Princess Kate.
Why not bring the jumpsuit back?
(Check out this great modest fashion blog, Clothed Much, here.)
Sweater dress. Oh yes.
(Shop for modest fashion at Mikarose!)
Bare or covered, be beautiful you. Be true to your values.
Monday, October 7, 2013
Secret Selfie
I wore hair the other night. And then I posted a picture of it on Instagram, which also ended up on Facebook:
A friend told me that I was obviously insecure and looking for affirmation.
The funny thing is that I did get a lot more "likes" on this picture than I usually get. Maybe I was just looking for an ego boost because I'm insecure. Or...perhaps I was just playing by the rules.
Facebook is such an interesting world--at least the way I use and experience it. A post about a new hairstyle blows up with 50 likes in a minute, a new baby gets over 100 in the same amount of time, and a homemade flower arrangement gets 17-20. A post about an organization rescuing young girls from the sex trade gets...a few likes. Maybe one share.
I used to get upset about that, but I think now I just accept the fact that Facebook has its uses. For me, it's not a place to get a message across. I've tried--it doesn't work in my circle of "Friends". No--I mostly use it for keeping my mom and sister up-to-date on my latest style (given that I had no style in all my years living at home) and getting sympathy and attention when I need a quick fix. I can get those things either by posting a vague yet clearly distressed status ("Days like this make me want to hop on a bus to Texas, change my name and become a bartender") or, as in the case above, by posting a carefully-crafted picture of myself that I know looks really good. I just pretend I don't know it looks good.
Is that bad? I think about friends and family who have posted "selfies". I recognize that they are putting themselves (or one version of themselves) out there, on display, in a show of vulnerability. They/we are looking for acceptance and confirmation of the beauty we think we see in ourselves. When I post a selfie, I know I will get lots of comments. People are always anxious to tell me how good I look because, well, I'm a bald woman and need a lot of encouragement. So I post a nice-looking picture to get a few oohs and aahs. Sue me.
When we make a change that we feel good about or accomplish something we're proud of, we want to share it. People have always done this--now the audience is just bigger. Rather than asking your man if you look fat in your newest mall purchase, you can ask 400 people at the same time. And they will answer you, because they are looking for meaning in the world of appearances as well.
So yes, it is shallow. But it also speaks to something that runs pretty deep, actually. Something that I write about over and over again. If there were no audience, would we still be posting selfies? Why not? Why do we need to know that someone else will be looking at our picture before we decide to take one? Why not take a selfie just for myself?
That's my challenge for you tonight/today/this week. Take some selfies and don't show anyone. In fact, take your best selfie ever and don't show anyone. At least not for awhile. Appreciate your own beauty without the need to measure it against any standards. Fill yourself with contentment that does not come from outer praise, but from inner recognition of your place in creation (Hint: you are the crowning jewel).
If you come to this place of self-love, then you can post your picture if you want. We will all love it. No one will judge you for posting a picture of yourself just to get attention. We all do it. We all want the world to know what we look like whenever we do something that looks good. Nothing wrong with that...as long as it's not identity-forming.
A friend told me that I was obviously insecure and looking for affirmation.
The funny thing is that I did get a lot more "likes" on this picture than I usually get. Maybe I was just looking for an ego boost because I'm insecure. Or...perhaps I was just playing by the rules.
Facebook is such an interesting world--at least the way I use and experience it. A post about a new hairstyle blows up with 50 likes in a minute, a new baby gets over 100 in the same amount of time, and a homemade flower arrangement gets 17-20. A post about an organization rescuing young girls from the sex trade gets...a few likes. Maybe one share.
I used to get upset about that, but I think now I just accept the fact that Facebook has its uses. For me, it's not a place to get a message across. I've tried--it doesn't work in my circle of "Friends". No--I mostly use it for keeping my mom and sister up-to-date on my latest style (given that I had no style in all my years living at home) and getting sympathy and attention when I need a quick fix. I can get those things either by posting a vague yet clearly distressed status ("Days like this make me want to hop on a bus to Texas, change my name and become a bartender") or, as in the case above, by posting a carefully-crafted picture of myself that I know looks really good. I just pretend I don't know it looks good.
Is that bad? I think about friends and family who have posted "selfies". I recognize that they are putting themselves (or one version of themselves) out there, on display, in a show of vulnerability. They/we are looking for acceptance and confirmation of the beauty we think we see in ourselves. When I post a selfie, I know I will get lots of comments. People are always anxious to tell me how good I look because, well, I'm a bald woman and need a lot of encouragement. So I post a nice-looking picture to get a few oohs and aahs. Sue me.
When we make a change that we feel good about or accomplish something we're proud of, we want to share it. People have always done this--now the audience is just bigger. Rather than asking your man if you look fat in your newest mall purchase, you can ask 400 people at the same time. And they will answer you, because they are looking for meaning in the world of appearances as well.
So yes, it is shallow. But it also speaks to something that runs pretty deep, actually. Something that I write about over and over again. If there were no audience, would we still be posting selfies? Why not? Why do we need to know that someone else will be looking at our picture before we decide to take one? Why not take a selfie just for myself?
That's my challenge for you tonight/today/this week. Take some selfies and don't show anyone. In fact, take your best selfie ever and don't show anyone. At least not for awhile. Appreciate your own beauty without the need to measure it against any standards. Fill yourself with contentment that does not come from outer praise, but from inner recognition of your place in creation (Hint: you are the crowning jewel).
If you come to this place of self-love, then you can post your picture if you want. We will all love it. No one will judge you for posting a picture of yourself just to get attention. We all do it. We all want the world to know what we look like whenever we do something that looks good. Nothing wrong with that...as long as it's not identity-forming.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
A little bleeding now and then
What a mess I was today. Let me give you a picture of what I looked like at about 2:00 in the afternoon:
--a new pair of shoes had given me a bloody heel, which stained the hem of my pants;
--my earlobe was bleeding from a cheap metal earring;
--days and days of nervous finger-picking had left most of my fingers scraped and raw;
--and, I over-squeezed the teeniest little blemish on my face, leaving an oozing red blood blister.
And I didn't care.
If I had run into anyone outside, I would have stayed and chatted head-on as the occasion called for instead of pretending to get a phone call or strategically turning my face to expose my unblemished side.
I guess I've just been too tired to care lately. Either that, or I feel older. Two years ago, or even last year, all I cared about was looking good. Now, I still try to look good, but I just don't put the same amount of time and energy into it. And I feel much more free. Why try to hide my humanity?
I have a challenge for you. Give yourself a blemish. Not literally. I mean, dare to let some raw, real part of yourself see daylight. If you're bleeding, let it show instead of smearing it over with cover-up. Then take a step back and get some perspective. There are so many facets to daily human existence--do you really have the energy to fret over the assumed perception that you have both invented and yet also fear to face?
--a new pair of shoes had given me a bloody heel, which stained the hem of my pants;
--my earlobe was bleeding from a cheap metal earring;
--days and days of nervous finger-picking had left most of my fingers scraped and raw;
--and, I over-squeezed the teeniest little blemish on my face, leaving an oozing red blood blister.
And I didn't care.
If I had run into anyone outside, I would have stayed and chatted head-on as the occasion called for instead of pretending to get a phone call or strategically turning my face to expose my unblemished side.
I guess I've just been too tired to care lately. Either that, or I feel older. Two years ago, or even last year, all I cared about was looking good. Now, I still try to look good, but I just don't put the same amount of time and energy into it. And I feel much more free. Why try to hide my humanity?
I have a challenge for you. Give yourself a blemish. Not literally. I mean, dare to let some raw, real part of yourself see daylight. If you're bleeding, let it show instead of smearing it over with cover-up. Then take a step back and get some perspective. There are so many facets to daily human existence--do you really have the energy to fret over the assumed perception that you have both invented and yet also fear to face?
Saturday, September 14, 2013
What A Mess
I had a mommy moment tonight. I had to run out to the pharmacy this evening, and as I was strutting along in my electric blue scarf and T-shirt (my best color), I was feeling pretty good about the looks I was getting. Yes, I thought, I'm one hot momma.
Well, I didn't think that exactly. But I did feel pretty, confident, and young.
Then I happened to look down at my shirt (okay, I was trying to gauge how much I needed to suck in my chili-and-cornbread-belly so people wouldn't think it was a baby bump)--and I had to laugh.
I had big splatters of chili all over it. No wonder I was getting looks....
I have had more of those moments recently. I will be feeling good about how I look, and then I'll go into the bathroom and see that my scarf has gotten all crooked, or I accidentally rubbed the eyeliner off half of one eye, or I only have one earring...or, worst of all, I have some little tiny crust of something right at the tip of my nostril. And then I'm deflated.
But I think moments like these are incredibly important. When I saw what a mess I was tonight, I was reminded of the evening I spent watching my kids try something new for them (but an old family tradition I grew up with--cornbread in a glass of milk), and I knew where my place was. My place is not out in a singles bar or turning heads at a grocery store. It's in my home, eating chili and cornbread with my kids after a day of apple picking and wagon rides.
My place is walking along the lake shore on a blustery fall day, even if it means walking into work with a crooked scarf and crusty leftovers in my nostril.
We are real people. We are not poster images. When we walk to the pharmacy, we are telling the world a story about who we are and how we lived our lives that day. Tonight, I told people that I ate a big meal and didn't feel the need to change my messy clothes in order to please them. I told people that I spent the day outside and got a funny tan line from my scarf and sunglasses.
I bet people envied me.
What story will you tell when you walk out the door tomorrow?
Well, I didn't think that exactly. But I did feel pretty, confident, and young.
Then I happened to look down at my shirt (okay, I was trying to gauge how much I needed to suck in my chili-and-cornbread-belly so people wouldn't think it was a baby bump)--and I had to laugh.
I had big splatters of chili all over it. No wonder I was getting looks....
I have had more of those moments recently. I will be feeling good about how I look, and then I'll go into the bathroom and see that my scarf has gotten all crooked, or I accidentally rubbed the eyeliner off half of one eye, or I only have one earring...or, worst of all, I have some little tiny crust of something right at the tip of my nostril. And then I'm deflated.
But I think moments like these are incredibly important. When I saw what a mess I was tonight, I was reminded of the evening I spent watching my kids try something new for them (but an old family tradition I grew up with--cornbread in a glass of milk), and I knew where my place was. My place is not out in a singles bar or turning heads at a grocery store. It's in my home, eating chili and cornbread with my kids after a day of apple picking and wagon rides.
My place is walking along the lake shore on a blustery fall day, even if it means walking into work with a crooked scarf and crusty leftovers in my nostril.
We are real people. We are not poster images. When we walk to the pharmacy, we are telling the world a story about who we are and how we lived our lives that day. Tonight, I told people that I ate a big meal and didn't feel the need to change my messy clothes in order to please them. I told people that I spent the day outside and got a funny tan line from my scarf and sunglasses.
I bet people envied me.
What story will you tell when you walk out the door tomorrow?
Monday, August 26, 2013
Impressions
If you are not a fan of impressionism as an art form, I suggest you go back and take another look. The effect of color, lines, boundaries, shape, light, etc. on our senses is fascinating. It's especially fascinating to discover how different people respond to the same painting or photograph. We often come away with these different impressions because of past experiences, desires, moods, or even distractions. When I look at the works of impressionist painters, I always wonder if the impression I'm getting is the one the artist was hoping to produce.
What impression do you get from the picture above?
It's an edited photograph. It's one of my favorite pictures that I have ever produced. I took it with my iPhone and edited the colors a bit, but the impressionist feel was produced by the mere fact of looking out a rainy window.
I want to tell you the effect I hope this picture has on people, but I won't. Because in the end, it doesn't matter. I enjoy this picture in a particular way, but who am I to impose that on someone else? Neither would I want someone to tell me how a particular song is supposed to make me feel.
You know, I have been thinking of myself as an impressionist lately. I often ask myself, "What impression are you hoping to make on people today?" I might choose a more severe and dramatic set of eyebrows for the day, or a certain pair of shoes. There are countless ways I construct my "look" to produce some kind of overall impression of who I am...or who I want to be. At work, I like to give the impression that I am composed and mature. I find that the clothes best suited for this are buttoned blouses, turtlenecks, shoes with low heels and pointed toes, bracelets, and my scarf in a bun. When I am walking in my neighborhood and want to give off the impression that I belong in the 'hood, I like anklets, a scarf with a long tail down the back, big earrings, maybe a cap over my scarf, and a fairly tight T-shirt.
The gist is, I try to arrange colors and textures in such a way as to give an onlooker a certain impression of reality. I don't have one "look"; I have as many styles as I have moods, fears, hopes, or purposes.
The thing is, I can't totally control what impression people have of me at any given moment. I may try to give off a certain vibe, but it often backfires. I might go into work thinking I look professional, when coworkers end up making comments about how "fashionable" I look, as if I valued that. I might try to look like the consummate sports fan at a Cubs game, but the die-hards around me probably sense my boredom and ignorance as the game goes on.
The lesson in all of this, if there has to be one, is that impressionism is about the artist as much as it is about the onlookers. It is about reflecting some sense of reality that is true for the artist and may find resonance with some viewers. If not, then a new sense of reality can be constructed between and among differing impressions. Not to philosophize fashion, but perhaps we should consider that the act of choosing how we will dress and arrange ourselves every morning is an act of impressionism. And impressionism is simply (or brilliantly) a way to boil details down into the most important sensory experiences.
If you want to make an impression on someone, give them something to experience. Let them see colors that reflect how you see yourself that day. Let your impressionist art be about communicating the core aspects of your "person" rather than the stereotype you are actually trying to stuff yourself into. Allow yourself to be released into a community of onlookers (who are also artists themselves, don't forget) whose impressions of you, no matter how varied or deviant from your intentions, will enrich your human reality and produce empathic responses all around.
So, what impression are you trying to make today? I challenge you to ask that question every day this week.
Friday, July 5, 2013
To Tatt or Not To Tatt...or Too Tatt?
Well, another birthday has come and gone without me getting a tattoo. I've wanted one for years. I had decided to get one for my thirtieth birthday, but two years later my skin has yet to be touched by a needle. I still want one, but there are so many factors to consider:
~~What if I turn out to be allergic to the ink? I would so not be surprised.
~~I work with international students. What if having a tattoo offends them and compromises the trusting relationship I try to hard to build with them?
~~The designs I am considering will not fit anywhere where I would be able to see them. Do I rethink the design, or the location?
~~My husband is not crazy about this idea. Do I respect his preferences, or go ahead and do something to my body that he will have to confront every day?
~~How will I explain to my kids why I can get a tattoo but they can't draw on their hands with magic marker? More to the point, how will I explain the healing process without scaring them and revealing that I will actually go through pain in order to look a certain way?
~~Is this really something I want to spend money on? Does it really reflect my spending values?
~~Not knowing any tattoo artists personally, and not having a design on paper to go in with, how can I be sure I'll be happy with what I get?
~~The big one--why do I want a tattoo so badly? Am I trying for a personality upgrade? Do I want people to think I'm edgy? Do I want to mark a significant revelation and/or period in my life?
I have to be at peace before I get this done. And yet, there is no way to know how I will feel about it until I do it. Irrevocably.
Although I know this is ultimately my decision, I would love reader response on this one.
(Check out my new Pinterest board: Tattoo Ideas!)
~~What if I turn out to be allergic to the ink? I would so not be surprised.
~~I work with international students. What if having a tattoo offends them and compromises the trusting relationship I try to hard to build with them?
~~The designs I am considering will not fit anywhere where I would be able to see them. Do I rethink the design, or the location?
~~My husband is not crazy about this idea. Do I respect his preferences, or go ahead and do something to my body that he will have to confront every day?
~~How will I explain to my kids why I can get a tattoo but they can't draw on their hands with magic marker? More to the point, how will I explain the healing process without scaring them and revealing that I will actually go through pain in order to look a certain way?
~~Is this really something I want to spend money on? Does it really reflect my spending values?
~~Not knowing any tattoo artists personally, and not having a design on paper to go in with, how can I be sure I'll be happy with what I get?
~~The big one--why do I want a tattoo so badly? Am I trying for a personality upgrade? Do I want people to think I'm edgy? Do I want to mark a significant revelation and/or period in my life?
I have to be at peace before I get this done. And yet, there is no way to know how I will feel about it until I do it. Irrevocably.
Although I know this is ultimately my decision, I would love reader response on this one.
(Check out my new Pinterest board: Tattoo Ideas!)
Friday, June 28, 2013
The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 10
Last day of the challenge. How was it for you?
Today's challenge is to repeat this mantra: Everyone sees me, and no one is looking at me.
Assume that everyone takes notice of you. You are not invisible, you are not unappreciated. You have made an impression, however brief, on everyone in your path. People notice the colors you chose, the way you carry yourself, and the confidence you exude.
Also assume that no one is looking at the details you fret over all day. People see you as a whole package, not as the sum of the many flawed parts you tend to focus on. No one is scrutinizing you the way you do yourself.
I hope these daily challenges have helped you to at least acknowledge some of the hangups we all face every day as we go out into a world dominated by narrow definitions of beauty. Repeat them as needed.
You are beautiful.
Today's challenge is to repeat this mantra: Everyone sees me, and no one is looking at me.
Assume that everyone takes notice of you. You are not invisible, you are not unappreciated. You have made an impression, however brief, on everyone in your path. People notice the colors you chose, the way you carry yourself, and the confidence you exude.
Also assume that no one is looking at the details you fret over all day. People see you as a whole package, not as the sum of the many flawed parts you tend to focus on. No one is scrutinizing you the way you do yourself.
I hope these daily challenges have helped you to at least acknowledge some of the hangups we all face every day as we go out into a world dominated by narrow definitions of beauty. Repeat them as needed.
You are beautiful.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 9
I hate the thought of being loud. Of disturbing anyone. To the point where, more often than not, I get ignored because no one thinks I'm talking to them. I talk a lot, but people can't seem to hear me. Literally, people can't hear my soft voice.
I'm so afraid of being a loudmouth. Loud sounds tend to grate on my nerves, so I assume they do for everyone else. I like to whisper in restaurants, on planes, and in line for theater tickets. When I am with a person who speaks louder than I do, I squirm every time they open their mouth.
I also like to stay out of everyone's way. I hug the fence when I walk along the sidewalk, constantly turning around to make sure I'm not blocking anyone's path. I am offended on behalf of people behind us when I am walking with someone who is oblivious to the fact that other people might be sharing the sidewalk.
In short, I value my place in society to the extent that I am able to hide myself in it.
But today I brought my kids to Target, and the three of us were criticized by another mom there with her baby. My kids were actually not being too bad; they were each pushing a little cart, and I had to remind them that other people were trying to get by in the aisles (for some odd reason, 4 pm was like Happy Hour at Target today--every aisle was crowded), but they never actually ran into anybody. And they weren't being loud until we were in the checkout line. My son started crying when I told him he had to stop pushing his cart. I only had to tell him because the woman in front of me, the same woman we kept bumping into throughout the store, was frowning at my kids and rolling her eyes. I finally apologized, and she muttered something under her breath to me.
We continued:
Me: "Well, I sure hope you don't have to deal with any of these issues when your little one (the baby in the cart throwing his bottle on the floor) grows up."
Her: "Don't even start with me. You are out of control."
Me: "...Wow."
I felt so sad that my kids and I were not, and are not, free to move and speak at will without constantly bothering someone. The general public has no tolerance for my kids, and it hurts to realize that the sentiment which breaks my heart also resides there often. I often can't stand to be around my kids in public.
But they, and I, live here and play here and have just as much claim here as anyone else. Why should I care how loud my voice is when I'm in a grocery store? In a library, I get it. Believe me, libraries are sacred places to me. But in Target?
And how hard is it to step around a child who is blocking your path, in blissful oblivion (as children know how to enjoy much better than adults)? Is it really so hard to share this world with other people?
I would like to redefine what it means to be part of the crowd. I'd like to discover the beauty of my own voice rising above all other noise. I'd like to bump into someone and find joy in the fact that we share a space which connects us.
My challenge for the day is to turn up the volume and take up more space! I will consciously raise my voice a little louder today. I will walk where I need to walk and hope that others will accommodate me, as I will for them.
Some of you may not struggle with this; your problem may be the opposite. But that's another challenge for another day. Today we celebrate being free in our personal space.
Here I come!
I'm so afraid of being a loudmouth. Loud sounds tend to grate on my nerves, so I assume they do for everyone else. I like to whisper in restaurants, on planes, and in line for theater tickets. When I am with a person who speaks louder than I do, I squirm every time they open their mouth.
I also like to stay out of everyone's way. I hug the fence when I walk along the sidewalk, constantly turning around to make sure I'm not blocking anyone's path. I am offended on behalf of people behind us when I am walking with someone who is oblivious to the fact that other people might be sharing the sidewalk.
In short, I value my place in society to the extent that I am able to hide myself in it.
But today I brought my kids to Target, and the three of us were criticized by another mom there with her baby. My kids were actually not being too bad; they were each pushing a little cart, and I had to remind them that other people were trying to get by in the aisles (for some odd reason, 4 pm was like Happy Hour at Target today--every aisle was crowded), but they never actually ran into anybody. And they weren't being loud until we were in the checkout line. My son started crying when I told him he had to stop pushing his cart. I only had to tell him because the woman in front of me, the same woman we kept bumping into throughout the store, was frowning at my kids and rolling her eyes. I finally apologized, and she muttered something under her breath to me.
We continued:
Me: "Well, I sure hope you don't have to deal with any of these issues when your little one (the baby in the cart throwing his bottle on the floor) grows up."
Her: "Don't even start with me. You are out of control."
Me: "...Wow."
I felt so sad that my kids and I were not, and are not, free to move and speak at will without constantly bothering someone. The general public has no tolerance for my kids, and it hurts to realize that the sentiment which breaks my heart also resides there often. I often can't stand to be around my kids in public.
But they, and I, live here and play here and have just as much claim here as anyone else. Why should I care how loud my voice is when I'm in a grocery store? In a library, I get it. Believe me, libraries are sacred places to me. But in Target?
And how hard is it to step around a child who is blocking your path, in blissful oblivion (as children know how to enjoy much better than adults)? Is it really so hard to share this world with other people?
I would like to redefine what it means to be part of the crowd. I'd like to discover the beauty of my own voice rising above all other noise. I'd like to bump into someone and find joy in the fact that we share a space which connects us.
My challenge for the day is to turn up the volume and take up more space! I will consciously raise my voice a little louder today. I will walk where I need to walk and hope that others will accommodate me, as I will for them.
Some of you may not struggle with this; your problem may be the opposite. But that's another challenge for another day. Today we celebrate being free in our personal space.
Here I come!
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 7
I think I take myself too seriously. Seriously.
I try to be very put together and composed in social settings. I am self-conscious about my smile and laugh, so I minimize all expression when I'm with anyone other than my mom and sister. I also check and double check to make sure my appearance is impeccable; because heaven forbid I let anyone see me with a bit of food in my teeth or a drip at the end of my nose (the wonderful by-product of a sinus procedure I had done a few years ago).
But I miss the freedom of being myself, without all the rehearsal and performance. I really do feel like I am putting on an act much of the time. I try to keep myself looking classy, when I'm really kind of a mess. I stumble, I cough at odd times, I fall off piano benches at church, I pass gas every now and then, my voice cracks when I sing--in other words, I'm like all of you! And I'd like to do more than just know that in my head. I'd like to laugh at myself in a way that brings joy rather than self-deprecation. I'd like to be silly without being self-conscious.
Now, I understand there are times when being silly will get you nowhere--or may even get you fired. But most of the time, I think we could all do with a little less performance and a little more natural expression.
My challenge today is to get over ourselves. Being goofy, messy, clumsy, annoying, ditsy, or one of countless other less-than-perfect qualities is actually beautiful. These qualities speak to our common humanity and vitality. The occasional gaffe does not define us, nor does it change how people see us--at least not in the long term.
The best way I can think of to pull off this challenge is to make silly faces at myself in the mirror before I walk out the door. So I challenge you to do the same! Smile, laugh, frown, stretch, open, scrunch, skew--and see the beauty inherent in expression of all kinds. Set yourself free from the need to be perfectly composed. The less seriously you take yourself, the more you will begin to redefine your beauty in terms of your inner beauty rather than your outer "perfection".
I try to be very put together and composed in social settings. I am self-conscious about my smile and laugh, so I minimize all expression when I'm with anyone other than my mom and sister. I also check and double check to make sure my appearance is impeccable; because heaven forbid I let anyone see me with a bit of food in my teeth or a drip at the end of my nose (the wonderful by-product of a sinus procedure I had done a few years ago).
But I miss the freedom of being myself, without all the rehearsal and performance. I really do feel like I am putting on an act much of the time. I try to keep myself looking classy, when I'm really kind of a mess. I stumble, I cough at odd times, I fall off piano benches at church, I pass gas every now and then, my voice cracks when I sing--in other words, I'm like all of you! And I'd like to do more than just know that in my head. I'd like to laugh at myself in a way that brings joy rather than self-deprecation. I'd like to be silly without being self-conscious.
Now, I understand there are times when being silly will get you nowhere--or may even get you fired. But most of the time, I think we could all do with a little less performance and a little more natural expression.
My challenge today is to get over ourselves. Being goofy, messy, clumsy, annoying, ditsy, or one of countless other less-than-perfect qualities is actually beautiful. These qualities speak to our common humanity and vitality. The occasional gaffe does not define us, nor does it change how people see us--at least not in the long term.
The best way I can think of to pull off this challenge is to make silly faces at myself in the mirror before I walk out the door. So I challenge you to do the same! Smile, laugh, frown, stretch, open, scrunch, skew--and see the beauty inherent in expression of all kinds. Set yourself free from the need to be perfectly composed. The less seriously you take yourself, the more you will begin to redefine your beauty in terms of your inner beauty rather than your outer "perfection".
Monday, June 24, 2013
The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 6
Straighten up!
Today's challenge is to walk, sit, stand and move as straight as possible.
(Image from http://coreconnexxions.wordpress.com/2012/01/30/straighten-up/)
For me, good posture is a confidence issue. I never wanted to stand straight it felt like I was trying to stick my chest out. I saw those girls at school, walking around with sway backs because they wanted everyone to notice their female endowments. I didn't want to be like that. Well, actually I did...I just didn't have the proper equipment. So I slouched. I didn't want to draw attention to the fact that my figure was anything but girlish.
I also slouch when I'm with people who are shorter than me. I do this, I think, to make sure they don't feel bad about not having the height I do. It's also awkward for me to talk down to people.
The problem with slouching is two-fold. First, it creates actual physical problems. Any chiropractor will tell you that. Second, and this is where the challenge comes in, it affects how you see yourself. When I see a picture of myself slouching, I feel old and bent. I look frumpy, tired, and sloppy. When I walk with a slouch, I actually have less energy to move around with.
When I catch myself slouching and straighten up my back, I suddenly feel empowered and confident. At least, I'm aware that I look that way to other people. I still have to deal with the issue of looking like those girls in my high school, but all in all I think I've realized that my posture really affects the image I have of myself. It feels good to walk tall.
Try to notice your posture a little more today than usual. Walk with your head high, your shoulders back, and chest unabashedly out. See how the world looks from a few inches higher.
Today's challenge is to walk, sit, stand and move as straight as possible.
(Image from http://coreconnexxions.wordpress.com/2012/01/30/straighten-up/)
For me, good posture is a confidence issue. I never wanted to stand straight it felt like I was trying to stick my chest out. I saw those girls at school, walking around with sway backs because they wanted everyone to notice their female endowments. I didn't want to be like that. Well, actually I did...I just didn't have the proper equipment. So I slouched. I didn't want to draw attention to the fact that my figure was anything but girlish.
I also slouch when I'm with people who are shorter than me. I do this, I think, to make sure they don't feel bad about not having the height I do. It's also awkward for me to talk down to people.
The problem with slouching is two-fold. First, it creates actual physical problems. Any chiropractor will tell you that. Second, and this is where the challenge comes in, it affects how you see yourself. When I see a picture of myself slouching, I feel old and bent. I look frumpy, tired, and sloppy. When I walk with a slouch, I actually have less energy to move around with.
When I catch myself slouching and straighten up my back, I suddenly feel empowered and confident. At least, I'm aware that I look that way to other people. I still have to deal with the issue of looking like those girls in my high school, but all in all I think I've realized that my posture really affects the image I have of myself. It feels good to walk tall.
Try to notice your posture a little more today than usual. Walk with your head high, your shoulders back, and chest unabashedly out. See how the world looks from a few inches higher.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 5
Someone asked me yesterday why I had changed my Facebook profile picture. I had been using a picture of a drawing my daughter made of me, but I was a little bored and decided to change it to the picture I posted on this blog yesterday. As I talked with this person a little more, we discussed motives for posting certain profile pictures over other ones. We tend to choose really flattering photos to post as the representational images of ourselves. There's nothing wrong with that--we all do it, we all want to put our best face forward, we all want to make a good impression.
As I looked at my photo, I began to see all the ways in which it's actually not very flattering. The bags under my eyes, those protruding lines of my neck, the general paleness...I'm laughing about it now, but catch me on the wrong day and that picture could actually make me cry. It's not my most flattering picture. If I wanted to impress people, I might post this picture:
I have a beautiful dress on, great hair, and shadows on my face to hide the bags under my eyes! Well, sort of...
But that's not always how I look, obviously. I'm afraid to post a profile picture that really shows people how I look "at home", which is not always so flattering. Here's one my daughter snapped of me while I was playing with my son:
Yeah, not so great. I would never post that as my profile picture.
But, it is a picture of me; therefore, it is beautiful. Every picture of every person must be beautiful. We are beautiful in design, beautiful in how we move, beautiful when we are living. I just can't always see that.
My challenge for us today is to find unflattering pictures of ourselves and look at them until we find them beautiful. I don't care if it takes ten seconds or ten minutes--get to know yourself from all sides and angles, see the beauty of any shape and pose, and redefine what a "flattering" photo looks like. You don't have to go so far as to post one of these as your profile picture, but it might be freeing to do so eventually. Find a picture of yourself that makes you chuckle when you remember what was going on when it was snapped, and post it as a representation of a life-giving memory rather than as the face you want people to see.
But that might take some leading up to. For now, just have courage to look at those pictures which you usually pass over or hide behind others in the album. Stay with them until they are beautiful to you. When you get to this point, chances are good that you will finally be seeing them the way others do: without judgment.
As I looked at my photo, I began to see all the ways in which it's actually not very flattering. The bags under my eyes, those protruding lines of my neck, the general paleness...I'm laughing about it now, but catch me on the wrong day and that picture could actually make me cry. It's not my most flattering picture. If I wanted to impress people, I might post this picture:
I have a beautiful dress on, great hair, and shadows on my face to hide the bags under my eyes! Well, sort of...
But that's not always how I look, obviously. I'm afraid to post a profile picture that really shows people how I look "at home", which is not always so flattering. Here's one my daughter snapped of me while I was playing with my son:
Yeah, not so great. I would never post that as my profile picture.
But, it is a picture of me; therefore, it is beautiful. Every picture of every person must be beautiful. We are beautiful in design, beautiful in how we move, beautiful when we are living. I just can't always see that.
My challenge for us today is to find unflattering pictures of ourselves and look at them until we find them beautiful. I don't care if it takes ten seconds or ten minutes--get to know yourself from all sides and angles, see the beauty of any shape and pose, and redefine what a "flattering" photo looks like. You don't have to go so far as to post one of these as your profile picture, but it might be freeing to do so eventually. Find a picture of yourself that makes you chuckle when you remember what was going on when it was snapped, and post it as a representation of a life-giving memory rather than as the face you want people to see.
But that might take some leading up to. For now, just have courage to look at those pictures which you usually pass over or hide behind others in the album. Stay with them until they are beautiful to you. When you get to this point, chances are good that you will finally be seeing them the way others do: without judgment.
Friday, June 21, 2013
The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 4
Part of my routine every morning as I get dressed is to find a color thread and match it to as many aspects of my exterior as possible. If I wear a blue and brown shirt (one of my favorite color combinations), I have to line my eyelids with blue and brown. I have to find a pair of earrings that matches the shade of blue on my eyes and a pair of shoes with the exact brown hue I need. My head scarf…well, that’s the element that takes me the most time. I have to find a scarf that incorporates the colors I am already wearing. With the many prints I have, I often end up wearing a plain blue or basic brown. I don’t often get to wear my prints because they clash with my outfit. Occasionally, I choose the scarf first and an outfit to match!
My challenge for today is to choose articles of clothing, makeup, jewelry and other accessories that look and feel good…without matching each other. Mix it up. Wear two different patterns. Combine colors you would normally not put together. Wear your favorite pair of earrings regardless of whether or not they complement the outfit. Show off what you really have in your closet!
Have fun.
Send pictures to redefinelabelleza@gmail.com if you feel like sharing and inspiring others.
PS--I'm writing this post on Thursday night, so by mid-morning I will have posted a picture of my choice of expression for the day.
My challenge for today is to choose articles of clothing, makeup, jewelry and other accessories that look and feel good…without matching each other. Mix it up. Wear two different patterns. Combine colors you would normally not put together. Wear your favorite pair of earrings regardless of whether or not they complement the outfit. Show off what you really have in your closet!
Have fun.
Send pictures to redefinelabelleza@gmail.com if you feel like sharing and inspiring others.
PS--I'm writing this post on Thursday night, so by mid-morning I will have posted a picture of my choice of expression for the day.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
The 10-Day Redefining Challenge--Day 3
Before I issue today's challenge, I need to admit something. I totally failed yesterday's. Looking in mirrors and windows is such a habit for me! I need to work on that. I don't mean that my goal is to never look in a mirror again; I just mean that I need to stop taking every opportunity to glance at myself. I mean, how much can my appearance really change in half an hour?
So one of the times I looked my reflection in a window today was at work. I was wearing high heels, and for some reason today they kept slipping off the backs of my heels. I had to develop a strange sort of waddle in order to keep them on without rubbing my skin raw on the outside of my big toes. I glanced in a window at work to make sure I didn't look like I was walking with a twisted ankle. I ended up taking my shoes off as soon as I got outside and walking barefoot through campus to the parking garage (outside of which I slipped them back on--I want to be comfortable, but I also want to be tetanus-free as long as I can).
Yep, there I was in a white ruffle blouse and khaki slacks...and bare feet. It felt amazing. This may be a new routine for me--waling to and from class with no shoes! I made a choice based on comfort rather than the reactions of society at large (or at least the students and construction workers whom I passed on my shoeless journey). It reminded me of a day last week when I had to apologize to my students for being unprofessional as I donned my jacket in class. It was just so frickin' cold in the classroom!
Today's challenge is to be comfortable. Take those heels off and walk flat-footed for awhile, no matter who's looking. Wear something frumpy to work (nothing that will get you fired, of course). Don't wear eye makeup if it makes your eyes itch. Wear comfy pants, shoes that fit, shorts that don't ride up, and bras that let you breathe. And relish the feeling of freedom that comes with making a choice for YOU!
(Image taken from www.shape.com)
So one of the times I looked my reflection in a window today was at work. I was wearing high heels, and for some reason today they kept slipping off the backs of my heels. I had to develop a strange sort of waddle in order to keep them on without rubbing my skin raw on the outside of my big toes. I glanced in a window at work to make sure I didn't look like I was walking with a twisted ankle. I ended up taking my shoes off as soon as I got outside and walking barefoot through campus to the parking garage (outside of which I slipped them back on--I want to be comfortable, but I also want to be tetanus-free as long as I can).
Yep, there I was in a white ruffle blouse and khaki slacks...and bare feet. It felt amazing. This may be a new routine for me--waling to and from class with no shoes! I made a choice based on comfort rather than the reactions of society at large (or at least the students and construction workers whom I passed on my shoeless journey). It reminded me of a day last week when I had to apologize to my students for being unprofessional as I donned my jacket in class. It was just so frickin' cold in the classroom!
Today's challenge is to be comfortable. Take those heels off and walk flat-footed for awhile, no matter who's looking. Wear something frumpy to work (nothing that will get you fired, of course). Don't wear eye makeup if it makes your eyes itch. Wear comfy pants, shoes that fit, shorts that don't ride up, and bras that let you breathe. And relish the feeling of freedom that comes with making a choice for YOU!
(Image taken from www.shape.com)
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
The 10-Day Redefining Challenge-Day 2
Today's challenge is going to be a tough one for me.
I cannot pass a mirror without looking at myself. I am so afraid I will have something in my teeth, hanging from my nose, or somehow embarrassing me in any number of ways that I am constantly checking and double-checking. I also like to see my pretty face, because I lived for a long time thinking that I didn't quite have what it would take to be the kind of pretty that people recognized. I live in the tension between being exceedingly vain and painfully insecure.
When I look in a mirror, I either waste time scrutinizing every detail to see what needs to be fixed, or I walk out waiting for heads to turn because I think I look so good. Either way, I am preoccupied with how I think others will see me. Really, I am preoccupied with trying to accept the way I look and reconcile that image with who I know myself to be.
I challenge all of us to go the entire day without looking at our reflection in a mirror, window, toaster, iPhone, spoon, or friend's sunglasses. After we get ourselves ready in the morning, let's go out and live our day with no clue as to how we look! Mirrors are distorted most of the time, anyway. I think this may free our minds to dwell on others a little more than ourselves. It will also free us to focus on our choices and relationships, rather than holding our head a certain way so that our hair, or scarf, stays the way we painstakingly arranged it that morning.
Good luck! And don't be hard on yourself if you find yourself sneaking a peek--it's a hard habit to break. Just glance at yourself, get your bearings back, and move on.
(Image taken from: www.fengshuicrazy.net)
I cannot pass a mirror without looking at myself. I am so afraid I will have something in my teeth, hanging from my nose, or somehow embarrassing me in any number of ways that I am constantly checking and double-checking. I also like to see my pretty face, because I lived for a long time thinking that I didn't quite have what it would take to be the kind of pretty that people recognized. I live in the tension between being exceedingly vain and painfully insecure.
When I look in a mirror, I either waste time scrutinizing every detail to see what needs to be fixed, or I walk out waiting for heads to turn because I think I look so good. Either way, I am preoccupied with how I think others will see me. Really, I am preoccupied with trying to accept the way I look and reconcile that image with who I know myself to be.
I challenge all of us to go the entire day without looking at our reflection in a mirror, window, toaster, iPhone, spoon, or friend's sunglasses. After we get ourselves ready in the morning, let's go out and live our day with no clue as to how we look! Mirrors are distorted most of the time, anyway. I think this may free our minds to dwell on others a little more than ourselves. It will also free us to focus on our choices and relationships, rather than holding our head a certain way so that our hair, or scarf, stays the way we painstakingly arranged it that morning.
Good luck! And don't be hard on yourself if you find yourself sneaking a peek--it's a hard habit to break. Just glance at yourself, get your bearings back, and move on.
(Image taken from: www.fengshuicrazy.net)
Thursday, June 13, 2013
My Kind of Character
Today I heard a fun program on my local talk radio. The hosts were talking about colorful characters who lived in and around Chicago. You know, those free spirited, eccentric oddballs whom everyone knew and had nicknames for. In the Windy City, apparently, we have had Racetrack Rosie, Kilt Man, Chicken Man, the Black Lone Ranger, among others.
I loved one of the host's insights that these "characters" are usually assumed to have mental illnesses, when in actuality they are often healthy, fully functioning individuals who are doing what they want do and indulging in what brings them joy. I've seen some characters in this fair city. This post will be the first time I've given them nicknames. I hope I do them justice:
--"Smiley Walker": The man walks everywhere. I only ever see him walking, and I see him absolutely everywhere within the 5-mile radius around my home. He always carries a medium-sized white plastic shopping bag at his side and he is always wearing the same clothes, but he is clean and groomed. This wouldn't necessarily qualify him as a "character", except for the fact that he smiles to himself. I always wonder what he's thinking.
--"Troll King": This guy rides his bike north around 8:30 in the morning, wearing a black kilt, black combat boots, a black T-shirt, and a white helmet. Why the nickname? Well...he's got long neon orange hair coming out the back of his helmet, and even longer neon pink hair sticking out of the top of his helmet, Ã la Troll Doll. I can't tell if it's his hair or some synthetic extension.
He would always ride alongside the car as I was taking my daughter to preschool. She called him the "crazy guy". I thought he had moved on, but a few weeks ago I saw him at an intersection, sans bike.
--"Singing Guy": This young African guy would walk around the neighborhood singing at the top of his lungs, wearing sandals. In the summer, in the winter, sandals all year round. In the winter he topped them off with an overcoat and a pork pie hat:
I haven't seen him in so long, I'm sure his family moved out of the area. I miss his exuberance.
Actually, we have several other "singing guys" in this neighborhood. You can hear them coming for blocks.
--"Crim": As in, criminal. But not really. This guy just wandered around muttering and grinning, always in a black leather jacket and Bulls cap, looking for locks to pick. I saw him picking our front gate lock outside my window when I first moved into my building. The cops said he's harmless, he does it to everyone. I guess it was our initiation into the neighborhood. I see him around, and truthfully I have a soft spot for him.
Does your city/town/neighborhood have any "characters"? Are you one of them??!!
I'd like to be one. Maybe I could be "Bald Lady". Get a cool tattoo on my head, a great wardrobe complete with huge earrings and long skirts, and some amazing shades. I should probably sing, too.
If not that, I can get a long hot pink wig that I've had my eye on and be "Wig Lady". I could walk around with a book in my hand and stand on corners reading. Everyone would wonder. So I guess I'd be "Pink Book Lady".
Who would you be?
I loved one of the host's insights that these "characters" are usually assumed to have mental illnesses, when in actuality they are often healthy, fully functioning individuals who are doing what they want do and indulging in what brings them joy. I've seen some characters in this fair city. This post will be the first time I've given them nicknames. I hope I do them justice:
--"Smiley Walker": The man walks everywhere. I only ever see him walking, and I see him absolutely everywhere within the 5-mile radius around my home. He always carries a medium-sized white plastic shopping bag at his side and he is always wearing the same clothes, but he is clean and groomed. This wouldn't necessarily qualify him as a "character", except for the fact that he smiles to himself. I always wonder what he's thinking.
--"Troll King": This guy rides his bike north around 8:30 in the morning, wearing a black kilt, black combat boots, a black T-shirt, and a white helmet. Why the nickname? Well...he's got long neon orange hair coming out the back of his helmet, and even longer neon pink hair sticking out of the top of his helmet, Ã la Troll Doll. I can't tell if it's his hair or some synthetic extension.
He would always ride alongside the car as I was taking my daughter to preschool. She called him the "crazy guy". I thought he had moved on, but a few weeks ago I saw him at an intersection, sans bike.
--"Singing Guy": This young African guy would walk around the neighborhood singing at the top of his lungs, wearing sandals. In the summer, in the winter, sandals all year round. In the winter he topped them off with an overcoat and a pork pie hat:
I haven't seen him in so long, I'm sure his family moved out of the area. I miss his exuberance.
Actually, we have several other "singing guys" in this neighborhood. You can hear them coming for blocks.
--"Crim": As in, criminal. But not really. This guy just wandered around muttering and grinning, always in a black leather jacket and Bulls cap, looking for locks to pick. I saw him picking our front gate lock outside my window when I first moved into my building. The cops said he's harmless, he does it to everyone. I guess it was our initiation into the neighborhood. I see him around, and truthfully I have a soft spot for him.
Does your city/town/neighborhood have any "characters"? Are you one of them??!!
I'd like to be one. Maybe I could be "Bald Lady". Get a cool tattoo on my head, a great wardrobe complete with huge earrings and long skirts, and some amazing shades. I should probably sing, too.
If not that, I can get a long hot pink wig that I've had my eye on and be "Wig Lady". I could walk around with a book in my hand and stand on corners reading. Everyone would wonder. So I guess I'd be "Pink Book Lady".
Who would you be?
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
You look...
"You look tired."
Really? I was feeling pretty good today, actually. Until now.
"Are you ok? You look upset."
Um, I was just thinking about whether to cook pasta or tacos for dinner.
"Hey, lighten up. You look like you're about to kill someone."
Nope, wrong again. Just enjoying the view out my window.
Why don't people ever tell me "You look like you're glowing today!" or "Wow, you look so refreshed!" Is it really that I look bad all the time, that I'm not getting enough sleep, that I have clinical depression and so cannot muster enough energy to keep a smile on my face? Or is it that the lines of my face were originally drawn in a certain shape, and it takes a lot to align them in a way that fits people's idea of what a "happy person" looks like? Yes, I feel down much of the time. But I also feel good and contented quite often. Yesterday I had a great class in the morning and I was feeling pretty good about the day, but then a colleague hit me with that first line: "You look tired." I did have a rough weekend, so maybe it takes more than a good morning to counteract the effects of two really hard days. Maybe now that I'm in my thirties, I can't spend a whole evening crying and expect my face to show no signs of it the next morning.
(The story of why I was crying is not relevant. No worries, it's nothing too serious. Just beating myself up over a mistake I made. I'm slowly getting over it.)
Okay, to satisfy your curiosity, this is my face when I am not thinking or feeling anything--just letting my face fall as it may:
Do I look mad? Depressed? Bored?
Here I am thinking about something irritating:
Hmm...not too different. It's funny, I just snapped these pics and didn't look at them too closely. It felt like I was really making an effort to show my irritation, but you can't really see that.
Okay, well here I am thinking of something light and happy:
See, again I really felt my smile muscles stretching. I totally felt like I had a big grin on my face, but it looks like a forced smile in this picture.
I am so afraid of being over-the-top, of people thinking that I'm trying to attract attention to myself, that I rein my expressions in to err on the side of masking my feelings. That, or I really do have the "flat affect" that is commonly seen in people with depression. It takes A LOT for me to show strong feelings on my face, no matter how I may be processing on the inside.
But is that okay? Do I need to walk around with a smile stretched across my face in order to make others feel more comfortable around me? The thought of that just exhausts me. Maybe someday, with therapy and medication, I will be able to break into a smile that can light up a room, or a scowl that makes my enemies scurry into hiding. For now, I'm just ho-hum me. I enjoy life enough. I make an effort to let people know that I am happy for them or hurting for them, and then I come home and crash from the sheer weight of my own face. That's a burden I have to live with right now.
What does your face tell the world?
Really? I was feeling pretty good today, actually. Until now.
"Are you ok? You look upset."
Um, I was just thinking about whether to cook pasta or tacos for dinner.
"Hey, lighten up. You look like you're about to kill someone."
Nope, wrong again. Just enjoying the view out my window.
Why don't people ever tell me "You look like you're glowing today!" or "Wow, you look so refreshed!" Is it really that I look bad all the time, that I'm not getting enough sleep, that I have clinical depression and so cannot muster enough energy to keep a smile on my face? Or is it that the lines of my face were originally drawn in a certain shape, and it takes a lot to align them in a way that fits people's idea of what a "happy person" looks like? Yes, I feel down much of the time. But I also feel good and contented quite often. Yesterday I had a great class in the morning and I was feeling pretty good about the day, but then a colleague hit me with that first line: "You look tired." I did have a rough weekend, so maybe it takes more than a good morning to counteract the effects of two really hard days. Maybe now that I'm in my thirties, I can't spend a whole evening crying and expect my face to show no signs of it the next morning.
(The story of why I was crying is not relevant. No worries, it's nothing too serious. Just beating myself up over a mistake I made. I'm slowly getting over it.)
Okay, to satisfy your curiosity, this is my face when I am not thinking or feeling anything--just letting my face fall as it may:
Do I look mad? Depressed? Bored?
Here I am thinking about something irritating:
Hmm...not too different. It's funny, I just snapped these pics and didn't look at them too closely. It felt like I was really making an effort to show my irritation, but you can't really see that.
Okay, well here I am thinking of something light and happy:
See, again I really felt my smile muscles stretching. I totally felt like I had a big grin on my face, but it looks like a forced smile in this picture.
I am so afraid of being over-the-top, of people thinking that I'm trying to attract attention to myself, that I rein my expressions in to err on the side of masking my feelings. That, or I really do have the "flat affect" that is commonly seen in people with depression. It takes A LOT for me to show strong feelings on my face, no matter how I may be processing on the inside.
But is that okay? Do I need to walk around with a smile stretched across my face in order to make others feel more comfortable around me? The thought of that just exhausts me. Maybe someday, with therapy and medication, I will be able to break into a smile that can light up a room, or a scowl that makes my enemies scurry into hiding. For now, I'm just ho-hum me. I enjoy life enough. I make an effort to let people know that I am happy for them or hurting for them, and then I come home and crash from the sheer weight of my own face. That's a burden I have to live with right now.
What does your face tell the world?
Saturday, May 18, 2013
The Creature Behind the Wall
This is what my life has looked like recently:
Literally, I had to re-caulk the tub in one of our bathrooms. I think I did an okay job, considering who I am. Not good with my hands, always rushing to do things without reading the directions carefully, easily frustrated, etc. But I managed to apply what I believe to be a nice seal around the tub. Not a perfectly straight line, but a nice seal.
Here's the problem:
This is the shower in my other bathroom. The one I use everyday. I took off the old caulk and found cracks in the stone around the base of the shower. So I stuck my blow dryer in there in an attempt to dry any excess water before I applied the new caulk.
After leaving the stall alone for two days, there is still water. Seeping out ever so slowly from behind that wall, insidiously wetting the very area I am trying to cover and protect. And, I'm afraid, ominously but quietly revealing a much bigger problem behind the wall. Can you say toxic black mold?
Who knows, maybe the problem is not as serious as I'm fearing. But...maybe it is. And I'm just waiting for the sealant in that first bathroom to come off as the water that's probably behind that wall makes its escape too.
Now that this is beginning to sound like a sermon illustration, you can probably guess that I'm not just talking about caulking. (Hee hee...)
This blog sometimes feels like the first picture: a nice patch job. A do-it-yourself remedy for feeling down about my looks. A feel-good sealant that gives me the illusion of wholeness and health, and looks pretty on the outside. I feel like I have done something productive, something that will stop mold from growing.
But what's really behind it? When everything gets stripped away and I am faced with that second picture, I have to admit that this is not a quick fix. It's not even something I can do by myself, no matter how many "how to" books I read or tools I buy at the hardware store. The problem is not on the surface, though that certainly needs to be cleaned up. The problem is deep. That flow of water doesn't need to be dried with a hair dryer just enough for me to cover it with sealant. It needs to be completely evaporated from inside the wall, and I may even need to have someone come in and take whole sections out, replacing them with new and toxin-free material.
I started this blog as a way to process my self-image issues. But after all thus time, I still have deep-seated insecurities and sadness about myself as a person. And I have to admit that the problem is significant enough to require more help than I was prepared to ask for.
I was recently diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder. Moderate, they're calling it. "Moderate" is just one level down from "severe". I balked at this diagnosis at first. Depression? Me? I know I have anxiety, but I don't sit around and cry all the time.
It turns out that depression can look different in different people. Who knew? For me, apparently it looks like constantly feeling inadequate, guilty, and deserving of punishment just for being myself. I see myself as a failure. This goes beyond self-image issues. This is something that requires doctors, medication, therapy...and prayer.
But I feel hopeful. This is like the good feeling I have when I peel away moldy caulk that I know is polluting my environment, even in a small way. It's disgusting, but it feels so good to strip it off and watch it get tossed into the garbage. It feels so good to rinse mold and mildew down the drain forever. It feels so good to wipe my kid's nose and know that he can breathe better. As gross as it is.
So I cringe at having to face this inner toxic mold, but I also know that I didn't cause it. We live in a world where mold grows and brain chemistry gets out of balance. It can be treated and often remedied, but it can't just be patched up.
Literally, I had to re-caulk the tub in one of our bathrooms. I think I did an okay job, considering who I am. Not good with my hands, always rushing to do things without reading the directions carefully, easily frustrated, etc. But I managed to apply what I believe to be a nice seal around the tub. Not a perfectly straight line, but a nice seal.
Here's the problem:
This is the shower in my other bathroom. The one I use everyday. I took off the old caulk and found cracks in the stone around the base of the shower. So I stuck my blow dryer in there in an attempt to dry any excess water before I applied the new caulk.
After leaving the stall alone for two days, there is still water. Seeping out ever so slowly from behind that wall, insidiously wetting the very area I am trying to cover and protect. And, I'm afraid, ominously but quietly revealing a much bigger problem behind the wall. Can you say toxic black mold?
Who knows, maybe the problem is not as serious as I'm fearing. But...maybe it is. And I'm just waiting for the sealant in that first bathroom to come off as the water that's probably behind that wall makes its escape too.
Now that this is beginning to sound like a sermon illustration, you can probably guess that I'm not just talking about caulking. (Hee hee...)
This blog sometimes feels like the first picture: a nice patch job. A do-it-yourself remedy for feeling down about my looks. A feel-good sealant that gives me the illusion of wholeness and health, and looks pretty on the outside. I feel like I have done something productive, something that will stop mold from growing.
But what's really behind it? When everything gets stripped away and I am faced with that second picture, I have to admit that this is not a quick fix. It's not even something I can do by myself, no matter how many "how to" books I read or tools I buy at the hardware store. The problem is not on the surface, though that certainly needs to be cleaned up. The problem is deep. That flow of water doesn't need to be dried with a hair dryer just enough for me to cover it with sealant. It needs to be completely evaporated from inside the wall, and I may even need to have someone come in and take whole sections out, replacing them with new and toxin-free material.
I started this blog as a way to process my self-image issues. But after all thus time, I still have deep-seated insecurities and sadness about myself as a person. And I have to admit that the problem is significant enough to require more help than I was prepared to ask for.
I was recently diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder. Moderate, they're calling it. "Moderate" is just one level down from "severe". I balked at this diagnosis at first. Depression? Me? I know I have anxiety, but I don't sit around and cry all the time.
It turns out that depression can look different in different people. Who knew? For me, apparently it looks like constantly feeling inadequate, guilty, and deserving of punishment just for being myself. I see myself as a failure. This goes beyond self-image issues. This is something that requires doctors, medication, therapy...and prayer.
But I feel hopeful. This is like the good feeling I have when I peel away moldy caulk that I know is polluting my environment, even in a small way. It's disgusting, but it feels so good to strip it off and watch it get tossed into the garbage. It feels so good to rinse mold and mildew down the drain forever. It feels so good to wipe my kid's nose and know that he can breathe better. As gross as it is.
So I cringe at having to face this inner toxic mold, but I also know that I didn't cause it. We live in a world where mold grows and brain chemistry gets out of balance. It can be treated and often remedied, but it can't just be patched up.
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Inventory
Ways the world is changing me:
--I honk my horn while I'm driving now.
--I go to my job at a university with a plan in mind in case there is an active shooter.
--I get restless when it's too quiet.
--I can't go for walks by myself without at least some degree of fear.
--I can't go for walks at night, which used to be my favorite thing to do.
--My body rejects the staple food of my society: wheat.
--I drive with my phone on my lap.
Ways I am changing the world:
--I joined the Advisory Council for the park in my neighborhood.
--I teach English to immigrants and international students.
--I write this blog about how to recognize beauty "off the magazine rack".
--I intentionally send my kids to multicultural schools.
--I vote in Participatory Budgeting in my neighborhood.
--I sponsor two children through World Vision in Zimbabwe and Congo.
--I buy lunch for friends on a regular basis.
--I have my daughter in multiple therapeutic activities to provide her a solid foundation for dealing with her ADHD.
--I have taught classes preparing immigrants for their naturalization exam.
Just to name a few on a moment's notice.
--I honk my horn while I'm driving now.
--I go to my job at a university with a plan in mind in case there is an active shooter.
--I get restless when it's too quiet.
--I can't go for walks by myself without at least some degree of fear.
--I can't go for walks at night, which used to be my favorite thing to do.
--My body rejects the staple food of my society: wheat.
--I drive with my phone on my lap.
Ways I am changing the world:
--I joined the Advisory Council for the park in my neighborhood.
--I teach English to immigrants and international students.
--I write this blog about how to recognize beauty "off the magazine rack".
--I intentionally send my kids to multicultural schools.
--I vote in Participatory Budgeting in my neighborhood.
--I sponsor two children through World Vision in Zimbabwe and Congo.
--I buy lunch for friends on a regular basis.
--I have my daughter in multiple therapeutic activities to provide her a solid foundation for dealing with her ADHD.
--I have taught classes preparing immigrants for their naturalization exam.
Just to name a few on a moment's notice.
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Shading
One thing I love about photography is the way one object can look like many, depending on variable factors such as lighting, background, contrast, and hue. You can see two different pictures of a bridge and not know you're looking at the same bridge in each.
I love creating moods in the pictures I take and edit. The same place can take on varying emotional shading just because the light is different. Or, more to the point, the filter is different.
I took these within minutes of each other on a single path, but they could easily have been taken at two different times of year, at totally different times of day. Which picture makes you feel more relaxed? Which is warmer?
I also love seeing photos of the same place from two different perspectives. I took this picture...
...and then I turned around and took this one:
Looking at the first one, you might expect a different sort of structure to be in place behind the camera lens (or, if you've been to the Gaylord Resort at the National Harbor in D.C., you would have already known what was standing behind).
Feelings can often be attributed to angles or filters. We only see one perspective, one shading, and we base what we think we know off of that view. What if we could see places, moments and people through multiple filters all at once? Would it help in achieving balanced understanding, or would it overwhelm and mute unique experiences?
My self-image is wrapped up in filters. I see myself in one mirror (literally) and I think "Okay, I am a competent woman, ready to go out and smile at people and get things done". But I look in a different mirror with different lighting and I think "Wow. I'm haggard and tired, and I want to curl up in a hole and eat chocolate because I can't face anyone".
My whole day can be spent in one mood, and then I look in a mirror and get a shock: "This is what I've looked like all day?!" Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad.
But the face I see in these mirrors does not accurately reflect my while story. Just like the pictures of the tree-lined path above both capture the essence of the scene, externally-imposed edits changed the way we interpret that scene.
I impose positive or negative "edits" onto my reflection when I look in a mirror. The essence of who I am, or what I look like, doesn't change, but the way I interpret my worth changes. I need to see worth in that essence--the defining contours that do not change or waver. Me, free of edits. Or maybe me with all possible edits superimposed at once. A well-rounded view of me in all my various shadings.
What would that look like?
I love creating moods in the pictures I take and edit. The same place can take on varying emotional shading just because the light is different. Or, more to the point, the filter is different.
I took these within minutes of each other on a single path, but they could easily have been taken at two different times of year, at totally different times of day. Which picture makes you feel more relaxed? Which is warmer?
I also love seeing photos of the same place from two different perspectives. I took this picture...
...and then I turned around and took this one:
Looking at the first one, you might expect a different sort of structure to be in place behind the camera lens (or, if you've been to the Gaylord Resort at the National Harbor in D.C., you would have already known what was standing behind).
Feelings can often be attributed to angles or filters. We only see one perspective, one shading, and we base what we think we know off of that view. What if we could see places, moments and people through multiple filters all at once? Would it help in achieving balanced understanding, or would it overwhelm and mute unique experiences?
My self-image is wrapped up in filters. I see myself in one mirror (literally) and I think "Okay, I am a competent woman, ready to go out and smile at people and get things done". But I look in a different mirror with different lighting and I think "Wow. I'm haggard and tired, and I want to curl up in a hole and eat chocolate because I can't face anyone".
My whole day can be spent in one mood, and then I look in a mirror and get a shock: "This is what I've looked like all day?!" Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad.
But the face I see in these mirrors does not accurately reflect my while story. Just like the pictures of the tree-lined path above both capture the essence of the scene, externally-imposed edits changed the way we interpret that scene.
I impose positive or negative "edits" onto my reflection when I look in a mirror. The essence of who I am, or what I look like, doesn't change, but the way I interpret my worth changes. I need to see worth in that essence--the defining contours that do not change or waver. Me, free of edits. Or maybe me with all possible edits superimposed at once. A well-rounded view of me in all my various shadings.
What would that look like?
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