And as, in sparkling majesty, a star
Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud;
Brightening the half veil'd face of heaven afar:
So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud,
Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed,
Waving thy silver pinions o'er my head! -John Keats I am attempting to avoid my negative thoughts. Shun them away like they are no more than a fleeting breeze on an otherwise warm day. How they creep up on me, I don't know. The tears creep. My path to the present, even, has creeped. Though I attempt to be conscious throughout the days, keeping track of outfits, friendly interactions, sensual kisses, I have yet again found myself in a place that seems foreign. The path into darkness, looking back, seemed so subtle, yet I struck a hard bottom before I even had time to realize I was slipping. I have the intense desire to be more aware of myself and my travels back to a place of light. But here, I found myself in a dim room. In a better, happier place, but still, how I arrived here, an area not of blackness, but of vague grays? Surely my life cannot pass before my eyes in such a daze. I want to scream at myself, WAKE UP! Be strong, be confident. Know your life. Know the life of your lover. Know the lives of your friends and your family. I cannot let time slip from my fingertips. Just as a fleeting breeze.
I don't want to be here. I don't want to be there. Want this. Want that. Need what? The only time I feel somewhat at ease is when I am traveling from here to there. The blindness of the road ahead. Focusing on the lines, the curves of the road, other drivers. Change lanes, blinker 1, 2, 3! I love knowing I am going somewhere. Its just when I get there, the feeling of stagnation slowly creeps up and I feel like running again. Running. A reoccuring theme. Running from what, though? The past? The future? God, even the present? Maybe my discontent is stemming from the fact that I honestly don't know. The need to have a goal, a plan, is salient. And the goal can be reached. It always is if it is worked towards enough.
Maybe its just fear. Patiently and impatiently awaiting a let-down effect. Disappointment.
I am waiting for a brand new day. I want a clear, cool, confident freshness that takes my breath away and leaves my cheeks flushed with delight and splendor.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
This is me. Sometimes its nice not to come up with the words to express it all myself. Its nice to find a friend or song lyrics or a poem that can so eloquently and coherently sum up a point or a feeling that seemed so difficult to personally to articulate.
I suppose I'd like to think of this poem as me, at least part of it.
You Are Never Ready
In four minutes you will be gone and I must tell you why. When a star crashes, the angels are electrified. When your dreams are perfect, they run like machines and leave you dizzy. When you first discover you’re dying, everyone seems to be saying goodbye. When your dreams are perfect, they run like machines. You must change your life. You are never ready. You must change your life. You are never ready. There are people you have to leave behind, they just dirty up your mouth they don’t value your treasure. You fall down, you kiss up, you love them, it’s not enough. They’re nothing special and you’re such a gift. If you had no magic here you’d be just like everyone else. Imagine the tragedy. You must change your life. You are never ready. Love is like crying like writing like dying you’ve got to do it alone. I know it’s tragic to be tender I know it’s dangerous to be kind I know it’s vicious to care. Listen to me, I know what’s going to happen to you. You don’t need a window, you need a fire escape, you’ll need a skylight to get where you’re going. I can’t tell you where. And you dream that you are hollow and you dream that you are whole reconstruct what you remember and it comes out in pieces. You must change your life. You are never ready. Those below you can’t hold you up everyone is gone gone gone everyone is gone gone gone. Learn to swim alone learn to fly. You must change your life. You are never ready. Cast them off like long rope and learn to swim the dark water alone. Look up to the stars stars stars and know that this is your sky now. Lift your arms and go step forward in Nureyev leap blink fast and whirr over streets hover over trees speed past taxis don’t even bother to wave at the children who watch you awestruck brushing past skyscrapers and looking up up slip off the long skirt that slows you down and don’t look back to watch it billow to earth tell the cool jets and Superman that you’re passing them feel your hair stream back wind blinding you forcing your dry mouth open no one can touch you now get out of this fucking world as fast as you can.
Sometimes you just do not know where to begin. Other times, its wondering where to end. However, its often been said that the end is always a new beginning. Life is cyclical. The events, the people, the time, it all changes, but with it, the person itself also changes. I believe to choose whether this change is harmonious or not is the true challenge and often, a die hard battle. How much can you trick your mind into believing something you want it to? Something it SHOULD be thinking vs something that those around you want you to believe? How can you know that 'you are the only person who truly knows what is best for you'? Its a dilemma. It is a die hard battle. Enter from far left stage: those who may actually know you better than you know yourself. Entering: Those who hold unconditional value for your existence and well-being.
I received this quote today from my dear friend may actually know me sometimes better than I know myself:
"That first peak is the best place to pause and look back, to see if you took the easiest route, to learn the lessons from the first climb. And it is the best place to examine the terrain...ahead, to change your plans and goals, to a take a deep breath and begin climbing again."
This I found to be so applicable. Over the last week I discovered indulgence. Absolute dis-concern for the cares I once held to so securely. I let the pressures of school subside, I reconnected with the love of my life, I ate french fries. And its been good. My mood has had an immediate and gratifying elevation. It has been a simple and satisfying elegance that I could not imagine letting go. I woke up with deep breaths, a fullness of contentment. How could I ever allow that to subside? How easy it is do tell yourself "ah, just let go! Do what you want! Who is really going to care whether you write your paper today or tomorrow? What horrible event is going to occur if you have that hamburger with fries?"
......I have been attempting to finish this post for a week now and everytime I read that last sentence, "what horrible event....?" I can seem to justify a simple life from moment to moment, ignoring societal expectations and listening to my body for what could genuinely be the best for me. And I have tried to be patient through these brief moments of blissful justification. However, I can always, consistently, feel the dark looming in the back of my mind yelling at me. "YOU CARE! IT MATTERS TO YOU WHAT OTHERS THINK!" It feels so angry and it can toss me into a corner, wanting to hide. Wanting to cry. Wanting a change.
I heard this song today and I couldn't help but feel incredibly related to it. My interpretation is of a girl who has been feeling down, blue, and she tries to fix herself through some outside source. An external factor that seems to artificially repair sorrow and she is being asked "What's the matter?", a question so frequently asked of me during my times of such apparent sadness. However, I, like this girl, am reaching out to find myself again. Easy or difficult, lasting or quick, she is not going to give up and neither am I. I do not believe she will be blind forever. She will find her surroundings and breathe again. Nothing is wrong with her, she is just a little misguided.
Blue Eyes Lyrics
Ohh, your heart is broken
To your surprise
You're sick of crying
For blue eyes
So tired of living
Misunderstood
Think hard woman
I think you should
Come, sorrow is so peculiar
It comes in a day, then it'll never leave you
You take a pill, wonder if it will fix you
They wonder why sorrow has never left you
I'm talkin' bout blue eyes, blue eyes
What's the matter, matter
Blue eyes, blue eyes
What's the matter matter
so blind, so blind
What's the matter, matter
Blue eyes, blue eyes
What's the matter with you?
Ohh, your heart got broken
On the underground
Go find your spirit
In a lost and found
Oh I've been watching
How you behave
Not much like a lover
More like a slave
Come, sorrow is so peculiar
It comes in a day, then it'll never leave you
You take a pill, wonder if it will fix you
They wonder why sorrow has never left you
I'm talkin' bout blue eyes, blue eyes
What's the matter, matter
Blue eyes, blue eyes
What's the matter matter
so blind, so blind
What's the matter, matter
Blue eyes, blue eyes
What's the matter with...
Blue eyes, blue eyes
What's the matter matter
Blue eyes, blue eyes
What's the matter matter
so blind, so blind
What's the matter, matter
Blue eyes, blue eyes
What's the matter with you?
What's the matter with you?
What's the matter with you?
I'm not sure if it is my sudden awareness or that the stars have aligned yet again, but it seems like the media has suddenly become aware of the stressors and negative implications of food restriction and overexercising. Today I saw 4, yes, FOUR articles from different sources relating to body image, restriction, etc. The first I read was for my human development class titled 'Human Response to Stress'. Ironic, I know. I read through the journal highlighting how neurotransmitters are released to engage the 'fight or flight' reaction humans experience when they feel threatened. The journal further explained how chronic stress can have profound impacts on the immune system that result in behavior changes that can be clinically diagnosed as depression and anorexia. Slap in the face. The stressors lead to social isolation, mood changes, food restriction and sleep deprivation. It seems so obvious after reading it and seeing the scientific proof. I believe that is a phenomenon technically call the 20/20 hindsight bias. Everything is so much more clear looking back on a problem and already knowing the solution.
Taking a break from school work and needing a little bit of smut, I went to the Cosmo magazine website where I was immediately confronted with a headline of Vanity Sizing-The Insanity of Size 0. The article gives a brief synopsis and begins, "The national obsession with skinniness has always been a numbers game..." Slap in the face. Of course its a numbers game. There is a drive to constantly diet, calorie count, consume the perfect balance between whole grains, fresh fruits and vegetables, and lean proteins. "Easy ways to cut back 100 calories a day! It could save you up to 4 lbs per year!"; "Find the perfect jeans for your body type!" ; "Quick workouts to tone your tummy!" There is an excuse to start dieting during every season, for every event. New Years Resolutions, swimsuit season, prepping for the holidays, coming out of winter blues. No wonder weights fluctuate and so many are confused about how to reach their ideal body.
I'm not blaming the media entirely and I do believe there is a conscious effort to reverse these trends, thus the newer headlines and increasing popularity about the dangers and repercussions of such diets and exercise routines. I am thankful for this awareness. I went to my nutrition counselor to further my own awareness yesterday to discuss my continuing treatment plan. We had our quick conversation and finished the meeting off with my weekly weigh in. Following: too much awareness. Following: slap in the face. I stepped on the scale. Predicting that I had gained 1-2lbs over the week from my general increase in food intake, I was prepared and feeling quite confident. No. Not what happened. 5 pounds. In a week. Good lord. The numbness washed over me. I couldn't help it, the tears came before I could even take another breath. How could I deal with that? I worked so hard for a year. Running, restricting, saying 'no'. Feeling down, ruining relationships, turning my back on myself all just to let it all swing back in a mere 2 weeks. The numbers, the numbers, the numbers. It swelled in my head, pulling me from the present. I slipped back into a shell of isolation, paralyzed. My eyes fixated on nothing. I didn't eat dinner. I wanted to run. However, I talked.
I had a long conversation discussing the difference in women bodies. If you lined up 50 women and held the only stipulation that each weigh 120 pounds and let height, age, race, etc differ, I can guarantee not one would be exactly the same. I let the thought sink in. The scale may have said 5 pounds, but my clothes really didn't feel different. I stared at my reflection, I couldn't see additional weight. I didn't feel fat or ugly or disgusting. It really was just a number. I'm requesting not to see my weights anymore. I don't think it matters, should matter, should determine who Ill be or the goal I should strive to achieve. I think the key is balance and awareness (healthy awareness!). Consciousness. Eat the whole grains, fruits and veggies, lean proteins. But also indulge a bit. I took a hookie day from school today with a dear friend. We've done nothing but indulge. Not in food, per se, but we indulged in a drive to Big Sky, enveloped ourselves in music and felt the gravity pull when the car leaned on the curve of the highway. We did have a lovely lunch, took our time, and came back to town for manicures. Our day isn't over. We are going to a movie soon, and will finish with jazz night at the Plonk. Life revolved around food isn't a life, nor should it be life's only indulgence. It's not meant to be an obsession. A disease. Food should be an aspect of life. Something to enhance its quality. A reason for social connectivity, sustenance, a reason for self joy and to see joy in others. It can be a passion, but disown the suffering and the resentment. Maintain the awareness in every facet of life, and just know it'll be okay. Not always fabulous, not always horrible, but given some time, some faith, it'll be okay.
Whenever I experienced a down or off day, I would get little pieces of advice from my mom or dad, whoever sees my tired eyes first. My dad always says, "You know, my mornings can be shit too. I lost my racquetball game and the people coming through the door have had nothing but complaints. But that doesn't mean it has to affect my afternoon too. I can turn it around if I want. So can you." Id respond with, "Yeah, Dad, I know." but I could never really seem to put his words into action. My mom on the other-hand always gives me back my own advice. She says, "Sari, just take it one hour at a time, one minute, even one second at a time. I can't tell you how many times that has helped me when you remind me to do just that. Focus on one task, your next step, and you'll get through it." I always know that she is right, but God, what a hypocrite for telling her what to do and not be able to follow through when it came to my own issues. I knew I was down and depressed, feeling weighted and stressed, just completely overwhelmed at some points. Just driving to campus to work on a group project would send me into absolute tears. I would try to shake it off and get through the god-awful task, yearning just to get home, put on some pajamas and sit in front of the heater with my water bottle. Nothing I did could seem to turn my mood around and I mindlessly bumped through the hours of the day.
This morning began with that slip into a negative day. I didn't sleep, again, and I woke up feeling gross and bloated. I could feel the tug of my stress reliever and the dirty voice to escape and avoid. It was all I could do to choke down half a bowl of cereal and have some fruit. I wanted coffee. Black coffee. I made it through the morning and all too soon, 11am rolled around and I thought about the dread of having to get lunch. Nothing sounded good, I thought maybe an apple would suffice. My mom called me right then and asked me how my day was going. "Oh, you know, alright, just headed to the coffee shop to work on some homework." She told me she had lunch plans at the Bistro. Didn't sound half bad. I thought of all the advice iv been getting. Fight the negative thoughts. Find the good. You'll feel better if you eat. I promptly put my computer into hibernation and walked to the Bistro. I enjoyed the company of my parents. I ate. Nutrient rich broccoli and seasoned kale. I even indulged in a little glass of Friday afternoon (yes, it was after 12pm!) Petite Syrah. The weight had been lifted. I felt satiated and energized. I started back to campus in wonderful 40 degree weather and walked with a swagger to Justin Timberlake. Classy, I know.
A couple of years ago, I took a class in the Physiology of Psychology and learned about brain neurons called 'mirror neurons'. These specific neurons fire when we see a person conduct a behavior and we in turn, conduct the same behavior, thus "mirroring" the other. These neurons are found in the Pre-motor cortex, giving sensory guidance to the body, particularly in the trunk and in facial expression. I experienced the direct consequence of these particular neurons today in such a blatant and obvious way, I couldn't help but be pleasantly marveled by the phenomenon. With my refined mood, I opened my eyes and improved my posture. With a slight but genuine grin, I walked onto campus and had immediate feedback. Students made eye contact with me and smiled, said 'hey', held the door open for me, and responded with a general sense of cheeriness. My classmates in Senior Thesis even responded without delay. There was a general heightened mood in the classroom, and my rose colored glasses reflected, mirrored, the expressions of others.
I continued the better day with my first outside run in months. The air was crisp and fresh and I took in the oxygen with clarity and ease. I didn't care about burning calories or making a mile mark. I finished my loop and felt absolutely unbeatable and untouchable. I was washed with energizing warmth and actually started tearing up with happiness. Today I ran because I love it. I found my new stride. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
Size 30. Way too big. That's comparable to a 10. Double digits. Sickening. Hike the M and stop twice. Jog down. Hike the M and only stop once. That's better! Size 29. Oh thank god, I'm back in the jeans I wore to my senior photos. Run down from the M. Stops: 0. Drive to Denver and shop at the Guess store. Size 28. I'm elated. We get back to Bozeman and I get back on the mountain. I hike up, extending my stride and familiarizing the path. First set of trees, about a quarter of the way, I make it to a small switchback and a lone shrub and know I'm about half way there. I start feeling a bit winded but Taio Cruz comes on my ipod: "I came to dance, dance, dance, dance, I hit the floor cause that's my plans, plans, plans, plans, I'm wearing all my favorite brands, brands, brands, brands...."......my new Guess jeans! I find the motivation and trek myself the rest of the way to the benches underneath the giant white rocks of the 'M'. I don't sit though. I inhale deeply once, scan the valley to remind myself of my surroundings, and take off running back down the long trail. I finish the loop but don't stop. I sprint as far as I can back up the steep trail. I go till my legs and my lungs burn and finally slow, take one more deep breath, and jog back to my car. I sit down and smile, knowing I just made it further than the last time I tried. Feeling spirited and awakened, I crank up the stereo, open the sunroof, and sing like a fool back into town.
Wanting to continue my new and improved self, I start walking or biking everywhere I go. I begin to cut extra desserts from my diet. I cut back my soy chai from 16oz to 12oz. I eventually switch to iced tea. My breakfasts become smaller, my lunches feel cleaner, and dinner, well, that can stay the same. For now, at least. That's when the comments started. I was walking downtown for Music on Main, which happens to be the ultimate Bozeman, MT resident reunion and I was seeing a plethora of old classmates and co-workers. "Hey girl! Wow! You look fantastic! Have you lost weight?" Well, of course I knew I had, but decided to respond with, "Well, I just started running and really love it!" Positive response. Good. I feel effervescent! I start running more. 2 miles in the morning or a hike just isn't enough anymore. I pick up the pace. Two in the morning, another two in the evening. Everything becomes associated with numbers. My clothing size, the amount of calories in food, the distance Iv traveled or how many sets of 50 I can make when I start bending through a grande plie. Calories burned>calories consumed=(perceived) higher self image.
My life broke down to complete minimalism. It became about the smallest amout of calories I could take in and still feel okay. I wore dull colors. Just black. Just brown. Just white. I cut my social connections and avoided social gatherings where people hung around tables and snacked. It looked like a bunch of grazing animals getting hay thrown to them in a trough. The thought turned my stomach and I savored the fact that I didn't need any of it. I eventually became the bare bones I lead myself towards. Lifelessness, a dead zone. Darkness.
In my state of reversal and transformation, I'm viewing the bareness as a clean slate. Not something to be ignored, shunned, punished, or criticized. Its an opportunity to draw out the obviousness of what hasn't worked, and to build and strengthen upon a new canvas. Ill add the components I betrayed. Ill incorporate fresh knowledge as to what can be learned and utilized from reaching the extreme of complete hollowness. To the bones ill add muscle and strength, it will encase a heart and a stomach. Ill add flavor, spice, color, richness, pleasure, connectedness. Ill breathe life back into my lungs. I am aiming for a sense of wholeness. I want to feel the compexities and the weight of sheer existence. I want to feel fire and intensity and passion again but know how to cover it in a blanket of wet, cool, cerulean relief and be able to feel an opposite lightness of foot. A graceful, gliding sensation. Just imaging having this clear palate to create is making me smile. I already feel lighter. Ha, finally.
I can feel the burning in my legs. The heat. The fire. My knees ache. My heart throbs. I step through it. Just another quarter of a mile. No, I can do another half mile. I don't want to leave an odd number at the end, I'm finishing the mile to make it even. I need it and I crave it. Just a little further to get the high. I know I can make it. Iv done it before. If iv done it before I can do it again. Iv strained the muscles in my legs. I can feel the tightness and the pull when I try to straighten my knees. If I stop now, though, it means Iv quit. And quitting means losing. I can't lose. Not against myself or anyone else. There are expectations to uphold. Miles and an image. Fake smiles. The Dean's List. But Iv done it before so I can do it again.
I am haunted to know why I run. Towards or away. To and fro. Back and forth. Freedom or imprisonment. Running to escape. Running to find. I feel dizzy. There is a pull to just let go. Be care free. But I like the burn. There is a guilty pleasure in exhaustion.
But it cannot sustain. I just can't do it forever. Today I walk.
I must say that the fact this blog is created on a Sunday is quite serendipitous. Indeed, a very very early Sunday, but the beginning of a new day and a new week nontheless. I was scrolling through photos on my cell, scanning through from the first photo all the way through to my most recent and analyzing and surveying my life and how it has evolved over the last couple of years since I received my trusty Blackberry. The first photo is of my brother, making a goofy face, and I can't help but smile everytime I see it. Its such a classic 'Mike face'. The next photo is of Ben and I. Which I guess is where a decent fraction for this blog is born and dedicated.
Just after climbing into bed, I read the love letter by Lludwig Van Beethoven entitle My Immortal Beloved outloud to my own beloved. It is one of my favorite works of short literature. Ben was snuggled beside me and as I opened the pages of my book, past notes he had written to me tumbled out. The first note I picked up to reread was a Thank You note for an excellent dinner I had made for him. Seared scallops and an apparent 'special sauce' that accompanied them. (He reminded me the special sauce was a generous helping of pure Vermont maple syrup, I should have known!) Anyways, I turned to the well worn creases between pages 56 and 57 and read him the letter. "Ever mine, ever thine, ever ours." The passage always touches a deep space in my heart that seems to ignite the soul and remind me of my treasures. Now, forgive me for the not so short prelude. After reading the passage is when I began the scroll through my photos. As I was reminded of the events to which I captured in a freeze-frame, I noticed a simple but common element. To each photo that flipped to the screen, I smiled just a bit or let out a quiet chuckle. They each captured an effortless glimpse to times of refreshing blissfulness. Holidays, vacations, quick snapshots of my pets, family, Ben and I being silly, a double rainbow, an early Gallatin Valley summer morning, a plate full of Seattle's best sushi. Easy photos, but tastefull all the same.
As I turned to the last few photos, I experienced an almost let-down effect as I realized what a dramatic change I have let myself venture through. I looked at my wrist bones and the outline of the veins in my arms, visible even from the dim light of the computer screen in an otherwise dark room. I instantly recovered memories of not-so-long ago at the mood swings. The lethargism. I felt along my temple at my stress vein that Iv so recently covered by chopping off my bangs and distracting myself with a new haircut and new color. Another change that has seemed so necessary. I am now even thinking of the spry blue Audi I just replaced with a rather mundane black SUV. I have become so self-centered and inward, taking foregranted those who care so much for my well-being. I have taken foregranted hugs, little dances in the kitchen, little simple pleasures. Waking up to a routine that has been unified around the concept of control and having an ambivalence to regain a healthy lifestyle.
Its time for a true awakening. And it is going to begin with a scrumptious Sunday. It is going to begin by taking my wonderful boyfriend out for breakfast at our favorite morning destination: The Nova Cafe. I am ordering a large, fresh squeezed orange juice, coffee, awaiting to hear the daily specials but probably deciding on ol' reliable Turkey Hash with sourdough bread. A Sunday newspaper, a crossword puzzle, some across-the-table kisses and subtle flirting will finalize the wonderful eatery outing. Following breakfast, Im driving us to Drinking Horse Mountain for a midday romp, and from there, let the day take us where it may! I am ready for restoration. I know that sounds like an old automobile or some money-pit housing investment, but Im not afraid to place myself in that category. I realize the immense amount of optimism here, and I am conscious and well aware that set backs may come, but I truly believe I am ready for yet another change. Im ready for a bit of G.I. Jane ass-kicking.
