Tag: Embracing your best self

The view from upside down

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I spend five hours in yoga class each week, given the luxury of an empty nest. It’s invaluable to my balance, that tenuous concept for all women–emotionally as well as the physical challenge. (I keep saying I’m going to find another way to talk about balance–we need a different term. It’s not an active enough word for the incredibly dynamic process of achieving well-being in our lives. Suggestions?)

The exercise room at my fitness center has floor to ceiling glass walls at the back. I habitually park myself near this wall, by the floor to ceiling mirrors, working to perfect my poses by glances in the mirror. Throughout the class, I’m upside down dozens of times, in standing forward fold or down dog. I’ve not quite figured out whether it’s the tempered glass of this back wall or the upside down position, but there’s a fun house mirror effect as I watch the latecomers hurry toward the room. Their legs look rubbery, feet appearing to roll along, all in slow motion. Remember Pokey and Gumby, rubber stop-motion characters from an old kid’s TV show? One of my sisters had the toy characters. They felt like those big pink block erasers, thick wires inside spongy legs. When we play-walked them along, the legs would buckle, almost bounce. This is how the people outside the exercise room appear–like elastic, stretching out slowly and snapping them backward, even as they hurry to class.

A friend found a little lizard in her bed. She picked it up to take it out of the house, and half of the tail pulled off in her hand. That creature had a choice of being caught–certain doom to it’s small brain–or being thrown off balance for awhile as it’s tail regenerated. In it’s innate lizard wisdom, the little guy is programmed to know it’s better to be imbalanced and know you’ll recover than trapped. What a shift of point of view.

Shift of perspective is a powerful tool. This week, I had two new clients come in, second time for each. At the first session, our discussions had provided such an incredible shift in the view each had of her situation. By the second week. each client felt completely past the problem. Jobs hadn’t changed, spouses hadn’t changed, family members hadn’t changed. All that had altered to solve the problem was the lens through which the problem was viewed.

Daily practice to change your point of view is a good exercise, stuck or not. Hang upside down. Try on a different pair of glasses, rose-colored or gray. Relabel loss as triumph, danger as healthy challenge, wisdom where nothing made sense. One of my favorite quotes from Caroline Myss is that ‘divine logic is not human logic.’ Perspective is often all we have control over–so control what you can, and let go of the rest.

Nobody’s business

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Listening to an audio presentation by Wayne Dyer, Ph.D., and Christiane Northrup, M.D., I was struck by this quote: “what others think of you is none of your business.” How much energy do we spend wondering–or fretting–about others’ opinions of us? As if we need that information–especially if it’s positive–to affirm us? If we perceive that someone’s opinion is negative, we feel rejected, even worthless. And even may revise ourselves to be someone that we’re not.
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Aim for less

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Aim for less sounds so unAmerican, so unprogressive. After all, we are a nation founded on always striving to achieve more. No one pines for a smaller house, fewer cars, or a reduction in income. As a culture, we’re heavily invested in the concept of “more is better,” applying that to material acquisitions, experiences, choices. Psychological research is clear that, as Barry Schwartz summarizes in his book The Paradox of Choice: Why More is Less, more can simply paralyze us and cause us to second-guess our decisions. More clutter, excess, busyness–whether in our homes, on our “to do” lists, or in our psyches–simply overwhelms us.

One case of “more” that really illustrates this concept is what I call “the tyranny of one more.” Familiar scenario for most of us: this is the endless effort we make to sneak in one more task, one more item crossed off the list before we head out the door, pick up the kids, or climb into bed at night. The “tyranny of one more” makes me late more often than not and keeps me working past when I need to relax and unwind. It’s a direct route to being overtired and overstressed.

My younger daughter, perhaps showing her old soul, has been in touch with “less is more” since she was a tiny child. When she was approaching her third birthday, we were talking about the guest list for her party. I began naming friends, listing them on a tablet, while she played nearby. I was really writing this list for me, until I heard what she was muttering. “Too many friends, too many friends. No, no, too many friends.” I listened. We reverted to the time-honored rule of one guest per birthday year celebrated, and invited just three little girls as guests. It was an ideal party, with no melt downs! Another life lesson learned from a child–because I listened.

“Voluntary simplicity means going fewer places in one day rather than more, seeing less so I can see more, doing less so I can do more, acquiring less so I can have more.” These words are by Jon Kabat-Zinn, professor emeritus of medicine at University of Massachusetts Medical School and prolific writer on mindfulness meditation as a stress reduction tool. Cut yourself some slack this week and practice the wisdom of “less is more.” Decline one invitation. Make dinner out of canned soup and fresh fruit. Sit down and breathe in your backyard. Embrace ways in which less truly is more: guilt yourself less, affirm yourself more; spend less, save more; worry less, relax more; compete less, connect more.

Naked in the woods

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I’ve just had the delight of Mother’s Day weekend with my two grown daughters at Gray Bear Lodge in the hills of Tennessee. The event was a Red Tent retreat, named after the ancient tradition of women separating themselves from the rest of the tribe during menstruation, resting, recuperating, and nurturing each other in a separate tent. If you’ve not read Anita Diamant’s great book by the same name, check it out. Who says this is an out-dated tradition? Imagine the reduction in stress levels if once a month we retreated from the world to spend time in connection, sharing stories, laughter, and pampering, with our sisters, mothers, and daughters. Let alone in a setting like this.

Healing abounded in the woods: scenic beauty, sauna followed by cold plunge in spring-fed creek, sand shower, rock pool and hot tub, natural facials–all anticipated and welcome experiences. Unexpected aspects of the weekend abounded–like group drumming. My less than musical self could keep time slowly, and even enjoyed it once I got out of my rational head.

Most wonderful– and most surprising of all– was the afternoon spent by this pristine waterfall, sunbathing in the buff. Two dozen women, all ages and shapes, easily shed clothing and communed comfortably together. No judgment in the air, either woman to woman or in any woman’s head. No air-brushed models here. With a few young exceptions, these were Rubenesque bodies that had birthed and breastfed babies, weathered life, cradled dying spouses. Cellulite be damned, we all reveled in soaking up the warmth radiating from sunshine on the table-size rocks. We waded into the freezing water, stumbled across the stones, and rubbed green-tinged mud all over. After the mud dried, we scrubbed it off until our skin glowed pink and alive.

The lack of self-consciousness and total acceptance flowed as freely as the cadence of our leader’s drum on the hike to the waterfall. And caused me to reflect on how rare–and powerful– it is, to free ourselves from our body image obsession (does this look good on me? is my butt too big?) and immerse ourselves in complete acceptance. Who says we can only feel beautiful if our bodies fit some arbitrary, waifish standard?

The phrase repeated throughout the weekend about our generous bodies was “goddess flesh.” As in (as we sank cross-legged onto the floor for meditation) “reach under your buttocks, adjust your goddess flesh so you can sink in and get comfortable.” This is a phrase we all can adopt each time those self-critical, culture-driven appearance obsessions pop into our heads. We’re all goddesses–embrace this body that works for you, which is all it needs to do.

And if you want to protect this lovely spot, check out the Gray Bear Land Trust.

What size?

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“I’m not trying those on!” “I’m not wearing size Y.” “Wow, I fit into a size X!” Who says a six (or a four or a ten) is a badge of honor? Then there’s that ridiculous size 0 or 00!! Does that make me a size nothing, or double nothing? Sounds like I’m invisible–or the incredible shrinking woman.

Lots of chatter about size as spring blossoms, with the allure–or horror–of summer clothing just around the corner. Too many women fixate on an arbitrary number to feel good about themselves, whether in terms of size or weight. With all this talk, I remembered that sizing changed, at least in home sewing patterns, in 1967. Intrigued by this vague memory, I did a little digging about the history of clothing sizing.

Standardized sizing first arose in the 1930s, with the growing middle class and availability of assembly line clothing. Prior to that time, most clothing was individually sewn, tailored to fit the wearer. Around 1940, about 15,000 American women were measured, 59 body points in all, as part of a USDA survey. The goal was to standardize sizing for mass produced clothing, for the first large-scale scientific study of women’s body measurements. Marilyn Monroe-esque curvy was the shape of most women at that initial assessment, with pronounced bust and hips and thinner waist. Not unlike an older standard of beauty–think Renaissance painting. Sizing numbers were arbitrarily assigned. Until 1956 a size 12 was for a 30 inch bust. In 1956 sizing changed again, as the average American woman no longer resembled this glamour girl body type. With the rise of Barbie, women looked less and less like her. Size 12 was assigned a 32 inch bust. Beautiful bombshell Marilyn would’ve worn size 16! In mid-1967 the standard changed once again and size 12 became a 34 inch bust. I was not yet twelve years old, but my size dropped from a 14 to a 12. I was thrilled. And I hadn’t had to give up one beloved Twinkie.

Fast forward to today: sizes are firmly anchored in the realm of ˜vanity sizing.” At Anne Klein, J.Jill, Target, and Land’s End, a 34 inch bust is size 4. Size 12 is now a 39 inch bust, and surgical enhancement trends notwithstanding, that’s some change. Store to store, designer to designer; you know where you like to shop: where a smaller size fits. Manufacturers know this and lure you in by labeling ever larger sizes with smaller numbers. In fact, my research this week revealed that the fashion industry resists any effort to standardize sizes, as was done in 1940, fearing loss of a customer if the size she wear gets upsized.  Upsized like a value meal? Who would stand for that?

It’s a numbers game. Do you like how you look? Do you feel good? Does this outfit feel like you? Define your style and stick with it and ignore the size, especially if it makes you feel bad about yourself. Quit the second-guessing–feel good at a healthy weight, reasonable to maintain, rather than a weight fueled only by carrots, grapefruit, and seltzer. Every model–on TV, the internet, or those hefty fashion magazines–is air-brushed. Watch The Evolution of Beauty here, if you’ve never seen it or need reminded. And the cultural standard of attractiveness is just that: defined by where you live. Check out The Hidden World of Girls on NPR. In some cultures skinny women are not desirable; they are considered poor and sickly. Curvier, more substantial women represent wealth and health.

Embrace your well-fed, rich look this summer at whatever size and weight. While we’re at it, let’s join forces and bravely bare arms. inspired by the First Lady, who has gone sleeveless where no first lady before has dared venture. No more fear of lunch lady arms!

Green Guilt

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Happy Earth Day. Today is the day we’re cheered and chided to take care of our planet by adopting environmentally sound strategies. Simply can’t escape the “shoulds'” all week long– the directives to adopt reusable shopping bags, hybrid cars, CFL lightbulbs, nontoxic cleaning products, and try carpooling/mass transit. To take shorter showers in water heated to lower temperatures. To recycle cans, bottles, papers, grass clippings, batteries, cell phones, and rain water. To buy local, conserving the fossil fuels involved in shipping. To go vegetarian, as livestock emissions balloon the cloud of greenhouse gases. To remodel with nontoxic paint or carpet and tile made from old soda bottles. Add this to any week’s usual list to clean, nurture, work, feed, pay, play, drive, and get a full night’s sleep. Are you exhausted yet, keeping up with the never-ending expectations of responsible citizenship?

Green guilt. I first heard about it from Lynn Colwell and Corey Colwell-Lipson, the hosts of HerInsight Radio’s Celebrate Green on the March 30 show (airing Wednesdays, 1-2 pm ET). Green guilt is what we feel when those “shoulds” invade our brains–we really do have good intentions about doing the best for our planet. But we can’t quite keep up with the expectations, our own or those of others. Last year, The New York Times ran a story saying that fewer Americans feel green guilt, down from 22% in 2008 to 12% in 2009, because they are doing more for the environment. The percentage of Americans who recycle at least one item grew from 89% to 92% in that year, as well. Almost all of us are pitching in on some level.

What if you’re like me, mired in green guilt because you’re not doing it ALL?

Time to recite my “DID DO” list again. I tossed the growing pile of corks on my kitchen counter from all those champagne bottles, even though I know I cut out an article from something, and saved it somewhere — now lost in the bin of recycled papers, no doubt — that listed where I could mail them to recycle. Rather than fixating on what I throw away, I need to focus on the tons of papers, bottles, cans, and batteries that I DO recycle religiously. Guilt about those full throttle gallons per minute showers I prefer? I really don’t want to give them up, replacing that 1964 shower head with a new low-flow variety. So I keep them really short, reveling in the heart-awakening morning blast. And skip a few flushes of the toilet, letting it ‘mellow’ if prudent, to save water.

It’s all about perspective and balance–as always! Aim to be a perfectly good citizen of planet Earth, picking the pieces that ARE readily accomplished. Maybe add one additional ‘green’ task every Earth Day, rather than engineering a complete overhaul of your domestic life. Just like New Year’s resolutions, the tsunami of Earth Day ideas can only be surfed for about for ten days before it’s simply too much. Remember those reusable grocery bags once more each month. Replace one more incandescent bulb with one florescent. Buy carbon offsets for at least one plane trip.

Who says you have to be Super Green Woman, champion of the environment? Persevere! Take pride in each effort you DO make rather than succumbing to the inevitable green guilt when you can’t keep up with the ten zillion ideas bombarding you this week. You’re doing the best you can.

If you need ideas for big impact with a tiny investment of time, check out this article on five ways to save the planet in thirty minutes or less. And then pick just ONE!

What works?

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I know everyone is busy–but can I tell you about my week? Two evening events, the arrival of the corrected book proof and the flurry of first bulk orders, and a day held hostage to the carpet installers (you know, when you must stay home all day because workers are in your home). I could have written a blog entry–or at least a “sh*tty first draft– as in Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life
author Anne Lamott says, on that day. Then, during one evening event, my house of course, the cat with interstitial cystitis decided she’d join ranks with the Tea Party activists in the nation’s capital by placing dime-size circles of urine on every other tax document the tax preparer (i.e., my husband) had spread out on the bed. Interstitial cystitis, chronic inflammation of the urinary tract, flares up under stress. Stress, to a cat, you ask? Stress to this cat (and her sister/litter mate, who in true sibling copy cat fashion also has developed interstitial cystitis) is any change to her environment that prevents her from sleeping 22 hours a day. Like carpet installers who bang on floors, drag carpet around, and prop the door open so scary neighborhood cat smells can waft into her territory. Phew. All of this is to say forgive me for the lack of lengthy, meaningful post this week. Simply don’t know where the time went. Now you know you’re not alone–and this is a week when I need to honor my own advice and write a “Did Do” list. However, this does not mean that I haven’t been thinking about my devoted readers. I’ve collected a short list of events that triggered “who says?” in my head this week, bringing to mind two of the thinking traps from Even June Cleaver Would Forget the Juice Box: Cut Yourself Some Slack (and Still Raise Great Kids) in the Age of Extreme Parenting. (Thinking traps are the culturally-ingrained myths about expectations of women and/or mothers that we keep in our heads.)

More, better, all is essential for success Always striving for the newest, fastest, latest improvement in anything and everything? A friend related how she and her husband just had to have a king-size bed. That was the pinnacle of “we’ve made it” adult success. And now they need not touch, ever, in bed. With plenty of room for avoidance, could the allure of king size mattresses be a factor in the epidemic of sexless marriages? A revved up, satisfying sex life is not easy if you never touch your bed buddy.

My grandmother shared another version of this same cultural drive to junk the old for the new. In the 70s, brass beds were all the rage. I was wishing aloud, hinting that one might lurk in the dusty, dim corners of her wondrous attic. She told how they had put the old solid brass bed frames out for the junk man, in favor of spanking new wood bedroom suites of furniture. The Pottery Barn catalogue look was not the sign of success in the 1930s and 1940s.

Moms have to protect their children from everything. One mom was lamenting that her children eat many French fries each week. Her preschooler was stuck on fries, eating only fries, as that age often fixates. Some say (my mother, a nutritionist by training) French fries are saving this country from scurvy because potatoes are rich in Vitamin C–and the only source of vitamin C for many. Another mom confessed guilt as all the other moms at the park slathered their kids with sunscreen. She chose not to do battle with her toddler over the process. Ah well, sunshine is our major source of Vitamin D. By slacking off on the sunscreen for that one hour, she decided she’d saved her kids from rickets.

Challenge the thinking traps, buck unrealistic expectations, and keep perspective. Does a king-size bed really define us? Is it really devastating to let your child eat French fries four days a week for three months, to make sure something passes her lips, if she eats healthy food before and after the terrible twos? Does one sunscreen free hour–or even several a season– over the course of your child’s life equal a certain health risk, if overall he is protected from serious sunburn? What works is what matters–not some arbitrary ideals about timetables we should keep or standards we should enforce or achieve. Embrace what works for you: a smaller bed, more fries, an hour of play sans sunscreen. And I’ll keep my own brain chatter going about the fact that this week, this late entry is what worked for me.

Inspiration to action

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The value of creativity keeps invading my conversations. In-depth talks with my inspiring sister, Jane Dunnewold, an artist, teacher, and creativity coach-in-training, are leading us both into further exploration about women, creativity, and wellness.

Creating is a missing piece in our service-centric culture, which I addressed briefly here. Certainly carving out regular times to engage in activities that feed our souls, such as artistic expression and writing, fosters well-being. To a one, the moms that I’ve interviewed for The Sanity Hour point to the value of writing as a stabilizing, enriching force in their lives as mothers. I’ve watched as another friend has taken up quilting to fill the empty nest left when the youngest of her rambunctious boys went to college, interrupting the ever-present thunder of teen boys and dogs in her life. She has lit up as she’s invested herself in quilting, the glow on her face matching the lively and stunning designs she is producing. And today, I finally hold a proof copy in my hand of the long-awaited revision of Postpartum Survival Guide, coauthored with Diane Sanford, PhD. This is a labor akin to producing a child, though we’ve joked that the gestation period for this book is more like that of an elephant: 760 days. Truthfully, this book has been in the works for the gestation period of one elephant and one killer whale (517 days). Today, there’s a baby elephant in my life–and reward for years of work. Links will follow when the book, Life Will Never Be The Same hits the virtual shelves in the next few weeks.

Inspiration is everywhere–we need only open our minds and look around. A fabulous opportunity is coming this Sunday, April 11, 2010. The Dutch Art Gallery in Dallas will be showing the powerful film Who Does She Think She Is? which examines the challenges of mothering while creating art. This is in conjunction with an exhibit by women, Finding Her Voice: Women in Art. A reception for the artists begins at 1 p.m., followed by a showing of the film at 2 p.m. Come and join this fabulous, talented group of women in a celebration of creativity in our lives. Hope to see you there. If you cannot join in on Sunday, the exhibit continues through May 15.

The Dutch Art Gallery
10233 E NW Hwy #420, at Ferndale
Dallas, TX 75238
214-348-7350

National Moms’ Night Out

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If you’re a mom, here’s an excellent excuse–or impetus–to take the night off: tonight is the 4th annual Moms’ Night Out. Grab some girlfriends and leave the demands behind. Head out to do anything that nurtures the non-mom parts of yourself. You deserve it–way more often than once a year! At least tonight’s a start. Remember, no one will make time for you but you. And what a great investment in making you a happier mom!

And if you’re so inclined, you can go to Facebook and add photos of you and your friends celebrating the occasion. Have fun!

Life’s Prizes

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It seems to be the season for life’s big prizes, from the Winter Olympics to the Oscars. Tonight on The Sanity Hour I will talk to moms of aspiring kids. We’ll look at how moms support their children in pursuit of big dreams, and what it takes to balance their own and their children’s lives. On the line-up are moms of aspiring/accomplished actors, athletes, singers, and authors.

One of my favorite topics, perspective, is sure to come up as key in keeping our lives sane and balanced. Too often, parents get stressed when they lose track of long-term goals versus the quality of daily life. As parents, we need to remember that parenting is not a competition, and our success as parents does not hinge on external rewards for our kids, even when those prizes are mind-boggling.

That’s why I love this United Technologies Corporation ad from years ago, and try to count these kinds of successes in my own life.

Most of us miss out on life’s big prizes.
The Pulitzer.
The Nobel.
Oscars.
Tonys.
Emmys.
But we’re all eligible for life’s small pleasures.
A pat on the back.
A kiss behind the ear.
A four-pound bass.
A full moon.
An empty parking space.
A crackling fire.
A great meal.
A glorious sunset.
Hot soup.
Cold beer.
Don’t fret about copping life’s grand awards. Enjoy it’s tiny delights.
There are plenty for all of us.

If you want to hear this group of dynamite women between 7-8 pm CDT on Monday March 15, 2010, just click on my link under RESOURCES in the right-hand column of this page. Then click on the box on the top right hand of the page that has blue lettering and says Toginet Radio Live. If you miss it live, you can still listen to the podcast by following this link.