work-a-day wednesday

“...people don't respect the morning. an alarm clock violently wakes them up, shatters their sleep like the blow of an ax, and they immediately surrender themselves to deadly haste. can you tell me what kind of day can follow a beginning of such violence? what happens to people whose alarm clock daily gives them a small electric shock? each day they become more used to violence and less used to pleasure.”                                                                                                                

                                                                                                                                                     -milan kundera, farewell waltz

                                            

it's the middle of the work week and people are rushing to their offices with tight faces and grim expressions. overheard is the predictable quizzing of each other about weekend plans for fun. i wonder why we store it all up just to rush and blow off all our steam from friday night to sunday afternoon. how sad to spend five days just existing only to exhaust ourselves with diversions at the end of the week.

why aren't we savouring the moment? when the alarm jolts us from slumber, we automatically rise and begin the routine machinations of "getting ready". ready for what exactly is what i wonder. why not pause a moment, take notice of ourselves, our bodies, our breath and our surroundings. listen to the streets below and the birds above. feel the world waking and instead of moving, rest and be still. relish in the pleasure of another day to be lived and felt and experienced.

pause from your workday intertia today and veer a little off course. take a different route home, try a new place for lunch, walk outside and sit in the park. better yet, do something you enjoy tonight...pleasure is yours for the taking, fun is in the doing...

life is a gentle teacher

on friday i posted a cheerful wish for the weekend.

there was a little more meaning behind it than just put on your dancing shoes and have a good time (although, that is a worthy message for a friday in itself). saturday i started taking ballet classes. one of my girlfriends asked me to take a course with her and impulsively, i agreed.

i took ballet when i was small. like many little girls, i was in love with ballet and ballet dancers, all fluid and sharp at once, the control and precision of their graceful bodies mesmerized me completely. i took classes from a very strict russian woman with a heavy accent and a stern face. i dressed with serious ceremony before each class, treating my leotard, tights and shoes as sacred talisman more than a sweaty uniform. i loved going to class even if i did get anxious butterflies in my stomach while sitting in the car next to whichever parent had to shuttle me to the studio. i took classes for a couple of years and loved every minute of it. i registered vaguely as only a love-blind child can, that my teacher’s brow never relaxed its furrow when gazing upon me; my parents looked at me with pity and a little sadness but thought nothing of it.

suddenly, i stopped being taken to ballet and was driven instead to ice rinks. finally after months i asked why i was no longer attending ballet. my mom looked at me with great sadness and replied that i was such a good skater, wouldn’t i prefer to keep skating? of course! i loved to skate! what wasn’t relayed to me then, was that my teacher pointed out that i didn’t have the body of a dancer. my already stubby and thick legs, made stronger and thicker by skating from the moment i could walk, would never lean and allow me to move like a ballerina must move. later when i really understood what happened i was confused and ashamed. what was wrong with my legs? they were sturdy and strong! it was the first time i noticed i had a body and maybe it was flawed.

while this was certainly a source of sadness for me, i never stopped loving ballet. but I was terrified to try ballet ever again. i continued to skate and those thick legs of mine served me well. they served me even better by allowing me to become a nationally ranked shot-putter in high school, but the feeling of dread over my muscle-y legs never abated.

standing at the barre on saturday, all those feelings of dread and shame washed over me anew. but this time i was able to shrug them off. make no mistake, i was terrible in class. clumsy and unsure, my thick legs made certain positions nearly impossible. it was dreadful to see myself in the mirror. but life is about trying. life is about experimenting. and as an adult, i understand i don’t have to be good at everything. saturday ballet is going to be about doing something that doesn’t come to me easily or naturally. it is going to be about spending time with a friend. i will never be a ballet dancer, maybe never even move past laughable, but i am determined to break the rules of shame and live in a spirit of experimentation and discovery.

live and learn. that is how we grow…

it doesn't matter if you win or lose, it's what you do with your dancin' shoes

  trevlig helg!

thanks to fanpop

love your body

                                                                          gustave caillebotte, minneapolis institute of art

weight. food issues. ugh.

the two things i swore i wouldn’t write about on this blog. the hours spent- no- the hours wasted talking talking talking about weight, size, food, eating, diets blah…with my girlfriends! the last thing i wanted was to devote one more inch of space to the abyss of anxiety and loathing that this fat phobia promotes.

but it’s love your body day and i realized- i have something to say.

it is my JOB to help people. as both a therapist and as a health educator, i am trained and expert in fields of nutrition, exercise, self-esteem and body image. as such, i have tried to BE the example for my clients. endless pushups, squats, suicide sprints, kettle bell swings, rounds on the heavy bag, burpees, WEIGHTED PULLUPS…all in pursuit of some sort of madonna-esque chiseled sinew of a body. i never quite got there, but i was damn close…then i went back to grad school. twice actually. so in the past five years, i completed not just one, but two masters degree programs. and strangely, when i see people i haven’t seen in ages because of the time and attention demanded by the workload to complete my degrees, i feel a slow burn of shame. i wonder, what are they thinking? …holy shit…did she gain weight! wow she is fat!

all i can hear, see or think is FAT FAT FAT.

i put on about fifteen pounds in school. my hands tremor at even typing those words let alone saying them aloud. and the guilt and shame weigh me down so much more that it might as well be fifteen HUNDRED pounds.

but what the fuck for?

instead of being proud of myself for acquiring two additional graduate degrees, instead of cheering myself for a major life change, for following my ambitions, talents and dreams, and ACHIEVING THEM-- i berate myself for getting fat. but let’s be more honest, fat in this case is straddling a size 6 or (gasp!) sometimes an 8. seriously?

that is some fucked up and crazy shit. (my professional diagnosis no less)

i was recently talking about this with one of my girlfriends who struggles with the exact issue and we agreed: fuck this shit. what the hell is wrong with us for focusing on gaining some weight under massive strain and stress? when i was an undergrad i smoked furiously, sucking down fag after fag, chain smoking while writing papers. isn’t it better that this time around i kicked down some doritos while reading my case studies? i can breathe after all, and while my workouts may have mellowed, my vitals are all still in the healthiest of ranges.

so we made a pact. no more self-flagellating, no bemoaning or dwelling. done. when i feel bad trying to squeeze into my old size 4’s, i pull out my diplomas. yeah, shame abated.   from now on…congrats to all that we ACHIEVE…in fact, congrats to me for eating that whole damn pint of ice cream sans guilt. 

i have other more substantial shit to worry about…

This post is part of the 2011 Love Your Body Day Blog Carnival

lil sis

it's hard to be responsible, adult and

sensible all the time. 

how good it is to have

a sister whose heart is as young as your own. 

                                                    -pam brown

it's my baby sister's birthday...shout out!

wishing you all the best, with all my love.

xoxo

life lesson

if you are surrounded by assholes, it's pretty likely you're an asshole too...

what kind of friends do you have? are your friends funny? do they like to laugh? are they kind and supportive? can you rely on them to lift you up when you are feeling down?

or

do you have friends that complain a lot? that are late or unreliable? do they spend all their time mired in problems?

chances are the people you call friends are a reflection of you and the kind of friend you are. we decide what kind of person we are with our actions. choosing our friends is such an action. we have control over our environment by surrounding ourselves with people that reflect values and behaviours we admire.

if you want to be someone that laughs a lot, find friends that enjoy laughing. if you want to be the kind of person that laughs at people, you can find those kinds of friends too.

so often my clients speak of their problems as being the result of the people they call friends...when the complaints begin to mount, i usually begin to probe a little deeper and guide them through thinking about what they are giving and receiving from those relationships. once we understand what we are exchanging, we can begin to reassess the kinds of relationships we have and the kinds of relationships we would like to have.

making the leap from wanting to having is easier than you think. it is a simple matter of being the friend we want to have and expecting the same in return. when we buy a shirt that doesn't fit, we return it for another that feels more comfortable. sometimes we need to exchange our friends for ones that make us feel better and are better for us.

remember though, it's a free market out there! we are all on the trading floor...together...

be my friend

"a friend is one that knows you as you are, understands where you have been, accepts what you have become, and still, gently allows you to grow."

-william shakespeare

heading into the weekend, my thoughts are turned to my friends. life can throw some curve-balls your way; knowing you have people to stand with you is to know you can catch them and still stay in the game. sometimes we take for granted the people that are constant in our lives. it is worth it to pause a moment and just appreciate the riches of our relationships.
i've personally had a rough few months and have managed to keep my chin up because of the support and kindness of my friends. my best friend in particular has been my biggest champion and a tireless source of encouragement and generosity. whenever i think i am down for the count, he is always there with a hand to pull me to my feet. no judgement, no criticism; just a steady grip that says he believes in me and trusts that eventually i will succeed.
a true friend indeed.

imagine

"Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart."

–Steve Jobs, 2005, Stanford Commencement Speech. 

yesterday we lost a great, creative mind and an astounding genius. while we all bring something to this world, just a few, like Jobs, change everything...rest in peace.