A Lesson on Ripples

After having a little temper tantrum tonight, I needed to take a relaxing bubble bath and have an ugly cry by flickering candlelight and listen to the John Mayer Pandora station (l o v e ). It's my go-to zen time other than yoga or a run. Seriously a scene out of a rom-com.

I was looking at the beautiful perfect little flame coming from one of my candles and sort of just gazing away into nothingness, not sure what to think or feel, just a little numb after my pity-cry. I am also sick with my 7th or 8th cold in about 4 months, so it could have been that too...

My mom is the best at letting me really, truly just explode my emotions all over the place and then helping me piece them all back together and look at life objectively with a fresh sense. Bless her heart, she's done it so many times. Often after I go through the cycle of "confusion - anger - defense - self pity - acceptance - wonder - hope - trust - gratitude", I'm not sure how to feel. An hour beforehand, I was angry and confused and now I'm grateful for what I have and what I trust is coming to me. It's a little roller coaster-y. But without my mom helping me navigate that roller coaster, I would have a much harder time figuring life out. (Thanks, momma)

I saw the flame coming from the purple lavender candle on the edge of my tub. And then something happened that hasn't happened in the many zen-baths before, and if it has, I don't recall it having any effect on me. I saw the wiggly, static of the flame's reflection in the water. The ripples just made the dancing flame much more jumpy and sporadic and unpredictable. It was actually somewhat mesmerizing.

If I moved even the slightest bit, the candle's reflection would turn to wiggles and abstractness. If I stay perfectly still, the water calms and I can see a beautiful reflection of the entire scene - the candles, the walls, the steam, everything. All I had to do was stop moving and stop messing up the beautiful view I had.

My most recent Instagram post was about creating white space for ourselves. In that white space, the universe can intervene and give you a helping hand if need be. I think I accidentally made some white space for myself tonight. My little moment of white space made me realize that I need to stop fighting so much, and just let the scenes of my life unfold in front of me. The water and the candle was a major metaphor for my life as it is right now.

The metaphor being: Reality is pure and good and beautiful (the candlelit bathroom, beautiful music, etc.), but with a touch of unpredictability (the flame). If I avert my attention downward, keep moving and wiggling, and fighting, all I see is mess. It's nearly impossible to see what is physically surrounding me. If I stop squirming and let my surroundings (life) come into view, it's a really beautiful scene that brings me a lot of happiness and peace.

That's all for tonight. Not much. Not terribly profound. Hell, I don't even know if this will make sense to anyone who reads it... but it made sense to me, and that's all that mattered in my little off-white, porcelain bath tub tonight.

Namaste. 

Love Yourselfie

To start this post off, I will say that I am most definitely a medium-sized hypocrite to write what I am about to write... but at least I'm aware of it, so that counts for something, right?

Most people know about my history of body dysmorphia/eating disorders/anxiety, etc. so it's no surprise that that is what is on my mind a lot of the time. (Or everyday, if I'm being honest.)

I went to the gym tonight briefly to feel like I did something. While doing my little curtsy squats, I saw a small young woman set up camp in the area where I was. Well, by "set up camp", I mean she stood there...

She was pretty (seemingly naturally) petite, meaning she didn't have to work hard to have a small waist and thin arms and legs. So, good for her for working out and getting stronger. I didn't think anything of her presence until I saw her turn to the side and clearly start checking herself out. Lifting up her boxy black shirt, she turned to one side, looked at her abdomen, felt the very small bit of fat that her leggings didn't contain, turned to the other side, did the same thing. Stood with her legs in a purposeful thigh-gap-creating position, cocked her head to one side, then the other. This went on for about 2 minutes before she started working out.

Now, hear me out, I'm all for checking my progress in the mirror alone in the bathroom by myself in my home alone... alone. That's just my preference. But go for it. Seriously. You're not offending anyone by checking yourself out in the mirror at a crowded gym - in fact, more power to you because I couldn't do that without feeling weird. Confidence level = 100.

Normally, looking at your swollen muscles in the gym mirror isn't all that uncommon, especially if you're a bro. But it's much more uncommon and more poorly received if you're a woman - but that's just stupid societal gender stereotyping which is an entirely different topic to talk about another day.

Other than her looking at her already-quite-flat stomach, I didn't notice anything odd. What did catch my eye though was the look on her face.

She was judging herself so hard. And it broke my heart.

Now I wonder if I've ever made that face in front of someone else ... or ever. It was awful to see this very becoming young lady look at her anatomically perfect body with such disdain. She didn't seem all too confident in her fitness skills, and she kept glancing over at me and another girl who were playing with some kettle bells in the corner. I just wanted to hug her and tell her she was beautiful and strong and so, so wanted in whatever body she was given. And give her a pointer or two on squatting.

 Again, let me reiterate that I know how hypocritical I sound right now. It kind of made me want to smack myself across the cheek. Why am I pitying her and wanting to help her when I have similar thoughts about my own body? Why do I feel the need to fix my "imperfect" body when it works pretty well?

How dare I ever have a look like that on my face. How dare any woman think she is inadequate. She was there at the gym - that counts as something. She was doing a decent job by herself - that counts as something. And I saw her. I saw her look like a normal woman at the gym. And then I saw her fragility. Her vulnerability. Her frustration with her own skin. Her own fat. Her own "imperfections". To anyone else, they are just the opposite.

I look at heavier men and women at the gym and without knowing an ounce of their character, why they're there, or what is motivating them to get healthier, I feel so happy that they are there. And after seeing this small woman clearly uncomfortable to be in front of other people, I think I'll start reacting the same way when I see anyone of any size in the gym.

Seeing people care for their amazing machine of a body brings me such joy.

I wish more people would be proud of themselves and the fact that they show up to the gym regardless of the way they currently look. In this world, we can and often are judged solely on first impressions. And those judgements fuel mental illnesses, lack of confidence, body shaming, poor health, and hate. Who knows what lies under that 1/2in of belly fat, that extra 30 lbs, or that extra 130 lbs.

To the girl glaring at her 1/2 in. of belly pouch not contained by her leggings, you are so much more than your body. You are too valuable to be treating yourself like that. I've been in your shoes many, many times. And I still have moments just like that in privacy. It's so hard to see what other people see in us. It's often near impossible. But you have to try. Try.

I don't care who you are, if you take care of your body, it will in turn take care of you.

No matter what your size is, no matter if your leggings contain all of you, no matter if you have 2 tummy rolls or 22 tummy rolls when you sit down,  your body is beautiful as is. 

Your soul, even more. 

 Let both of them shine.