Bear with an Image Problem

I called this blog Hale and Hearty Bear not because I had a positive attitude about my body, but because I actually wanted to acquire one.

Having and maintaining a positive body image is a hard road to walk when Society has such narrow margins for beauty, male or female. Accepting your body as it is, and wanting to be more fit, flexible, strong, and able, are not mutually exclusive concepts, but it requires that you don't expect your body to conform to some unachievable norm that either requires an entire lifestyle to maintain, or, was the construct of image manipulation software to begin with. 

See also: Megan Trainor's song lyrics "We know that shit ain't real, Come on now, make it stop."

Before I continue to talk about body image, it's important to remember that not everyone who is over-weight, or obese, perceives it as a problem, and not everyone who is naturally slim perceives it as an asset. There is so much noise about what is and is not healthy, and all of it amounts to numbers and statistics that are not, in anyway, indicative of health. This kind of thinking is part the industrial paradigm, in which, standardization and conformity are paramount. You are a human operating in a highly specialized, and individualized paradigm. 

Just look at what you're up against. We are constantly encouraged to set unattainable goals for ourselves, and our appearance is no exception. Who hasn't heard tropes like, "reach for the sky and you'll land amongst the stars, ask the impossible and you get the possible, never say never?" What perpetrators of these memes really want is for us to devote all possible resources toward financial success, appearance, and the acquisition of added value, material goods. They make their profit by facilitating your unhappiness, not the other way around. Every waking hour, of every single day, we are bombarded with images, and messages encouraging us to be dissatisfied with ourselves, our bodies, and our lives. Our consumer economy is, in fact, dependent on us working very hard to buy that car, those clothes, (in a smaller size) those shoes, a bigger house than we need, or even a vacation house, or three. We're told that a shiny rock is an expression of a man's love, and that the same bit of jewelry roughly represents a woman's "value." We know it's wrong, and yet, most of us still buy into it, on some level. Today, it isn't enough to be content, even if we are truly happy, we are constantly told we could be happier. No wonder the divorce rates are so high! Creating a general sense of dissatisfaction in the whole population has not only moved a ton of luxury goods, it keeps salons, gyms, and plastic surgeons in business. And it also sells a ton of anti-depressant and anti-anxiety medication, every, single, year. 

Clearly, the outside stimuli to perfect and correct our bodies isn't going anywhere. So it's up to us to recognize it for what it is, and choose not to buy into it. We must also forgive ourselves easily when we do inevitably slip-up and drink the Kool-Aid, because our media is more pervasive, insidious, and targeted than ever before. So, is it really all that surprising that the majority of men, and an even larger proportion of women report being unhappy with their bodies and appearance?

With the information overload of contemporary life, it's hard to know what is best for you. Even nutrition text books speak consistently about maintaining a "healthy weight." The problem is, the numbers we use to represent that, BMI (body mass index) are statistically anomalous: they and don't represent actual norms within our population. The numbers were only ever intended as a primary indicator to Doctors that further metabolic testing is merited. It was never intended as a means to judge anyone's health, and yet, we routinely used it as such. In other words, your BMI isn't any kind of indicator of your health: I cannot say this enough times! We have better measures of your metabolic wellbeing but none of these measure vitality, satisfaction, or happiness. Our most basic metrics of health are off, and a litany of competing, conflicting fad diets and super foods don't help. One minute coffee will kill you, the next it's the fountain of youth, but it's also staining your teeth and eating your enamel which will make you look older and endager your over-all health: we haven't even made it through breakfast and already we're on unstable ground!

So, what to do? I'm not really sure we, collectively, will ever escape the cycle of body shaming and appearance based dysphoria that so many of us fall victim to, and, if not accept our flaws, treat them with the same loving kindness we would - ideally - treat others. The truth is, we judge each other by a selection of rudimentary visual information like size, attractiveness, age, skin color, or eye shape, and make a whole suite of assumptions based on only that information. Making quick decisions about strangers is an evolutionary imperative, lest you be killed and eaten, but it doesn't always serve us well in contemporary society. In the culture of personality, with our collective celebrity worship, and obsession with youth, our outward appearance matters like it never has before. In the culture of character that we experienced in the early parts of the last century, your appearance wasn't your primary asset, and being overly concerned about it was considered frivolous vanity. Still, we can't know each individual we encounter, there just isn't time, and we would be constantly overwhelmed if we actually tried: there are just too many of us! We can, however, be aware of and try to curb the assumptions we make about others based only on their appearance. Knowing and accepting that every other human you meet is at least 90% cohort helps, and operating under the assumption that everyone you meet is basically doing their best to get through their day, doesn't hurt either. Before I get too far off topic with this analogue, I'll say this, people will judge you harshly based solely on your weight and appearance: they will not judge you as harshly as you judge yourself.

For me, moving towards a peaceful and contented relationship with my body requires a separation between striving, and perfecting; accepting that I won't ever achieve an idealized image that only exists in my head; and learning what's great about the way that I am put together. Like, check it out: if genetics are any indicator, on my current trajectory I will probably live a relatively healthy, relatively long life, in which I will rebound from any serious illness, and look approximately 10 years younger than most of my contemporaries: not bad at all. Thank you, Mom and Dad.

It would be arrogant of me to claim I had all, or even any of the answers. This is a struggle I share with too many others, and I'm still figuring it out for myself. I do know that it's never been as easy as stop disliking yourself and love your body the way it's made. In a way, saying you should just "do it" is it's own type of shaming. YES, self acceptance and love are the goal. NO, you can't just wake up one morning and decide "today I'm going to love myself." To quote Stuart Smalley, "because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me." 

Yeah, right. 

Given everything that you are up against, self acceptance is practically an act of rebellion these days, and you know how people feel about upstarts, and rebels. That's right, they're going to put you right back in your place. You, non-conformist, you! Self acceptance and self-love are absolutely possible - I have to believe that - but don't expect it to be simple. You're going to have to fight for it!

Here is the best news: you completely, and totally deserve it!

Working Through

Last night I was back in the gym for the first time in ten days, following a previous hiatus of ten days: basically I've been twice since before Easter in the hopes that I might finally kick this nasty cold once and for all. It was easy to take the time off because I haven't been terribly motivated to go after what seems like months without seeing any significant results. So, a diet reboot is already underway, and even if last night's workout sucked, I can file it under "I went."

But the problem really wasn't just a cold, or a lack of motivation, or even lack of results. My self-esteem is at a near all time low right now, and I've been hiding myself - sometimes literally - in the basement huddled in front of my iPad for most of the past...well, five years, if I'm being completely honest. I write and don't send things out, or I write and then edit what I've written into oblivion, or I just don't write at all. I also haven't been cooking other than the minimum required to put meals on the table, nor have I been working on any soap projects, or any other projects for that matter. What can I say, it's been a rough winter, but I know how to combat the winter blues and I haven't been doing that either.

I have ADHD/ADD, which means I have to be organized and structured, and I need a distraction free environment in order to function. But when push come to shove, I refuse to do the work to keep things organized and structured, or to set the boundaries necessary to have a distraction free space. This is in part because I am feeling low and unmotivated, but also because that kind of strict organization and structure feels like a damn straight jacket. 

Trick is, I'm actually really good at setting up deadlines and schedules, I'm even pretty good at following them when there is a concrete immediate consequence, like say, dinner will be late and I might have to skip the gym. However; when the consequence is less concrete like my future unhappiness, or potential of regret, it's really hard for me to remain disciplined. And, when I don't meet my deadlines, it's too easy to blame other people - and their interruptions - for my own lack of discipline. But the hard truth is, I've engineered and participated in every decision that has led me to this tiny, invisible, fearful life: and it has to stop!

Yes, I am an introvert by nature, but what I dream of, if I'm being honest, is writing about food and cooking, and teaching others to cook. I know, that is a really big ask in a world where Food Network and Cooking Channel broadcast 24/7, and every kind of take-out is only a click away, and every B-list celebrity is suddenly a cookbook author, but I still believe it's possible. And when it comes to all that other noise, I know with every cell of my body that cooking for yourself is the only sustainable way to a longer, healthy, high quality, life, and I know that people are losing these very vital skills. And, I know that shows like Chopped Up, Cake Commandos, and Muffin Wars aren't going to get the job done. No matter what the results, I cannot do what I want to do if I'm going to hide in a basement, not writing, and not doing. 

I am an approval seeker: Hello, writer! That desire will probably always be there, but I've too often allowed wanting to please others to be detrimental to myself, my needs, and even my mental and physical health. I think I've finally come to a point where I can say, NO MORE. I care what others think, as human beings we are programmed to do so, but the possibility of disapproval can no longer be an impediment to my own progress. I often tell people that acting and performing are different than writing in one key way: if someone thinks Hamlet is a shitty play, even if you're an actor playing Hamlet, it's still Will Shakespeare's shitty play, but when your the writer, that's YOU on the page. 

But, even if I start out writing a post that seems ostensibly about working out, which turns into me working through some issues, I still have to keep writing with the knowledge that someone is going to think it's a crappy waste of their time to read it. And as far as teaching goes, I have enough acting and performance training to fake being an extrovert when needed, but when I'm engaged and passionate about a subject I know well, just try and shut me up. What I really need right now, is bravery, and a little bit of discipline. 

Veggie Ramen with Kimchi and Tofu for dinner...

Bear Suit

How do men look good in suits? I've worn plenty of co-ordinated shirts, ties, and jackets in my life time, but never, ever, did I look anything other than slightly uncomfortable and disheveled. Did they get some kind of lesson I didn't? Is there a class in business school? What? 

I'm not trying to bash myself, there's a lot to like about how I'm made. I know I can look good when I want to, and I've mastered the art of dressing up without really dressing up. Even if I DO live most of my life in jeans and a t-shirt, I am frequently told that I look "put together," and I don't assume they're just being kind.

But, when I try to wear a suit, without fail, something will untuck, shift, pucker, or droop as soon as I move or draw a deep breath. I guess a few hundred years of working class genetics can't be shoved into Armani. I have a barrel chest, wide shoulders and a thick neck: I end up looking like someone put shoulder pads on a Gorilla! I have no desire to work in an office, or wander through life looking like a Penguin. I just would like to attend a wedding without spending half of the evening in the bathroom readjusting things.

It's not just the jacket, it starts with the shoes. I have wide feed, like triple E wide, with very high arches. Great for stability, strength, and balance, but not so great if you want to wear a pair of oxfords, loafers, or wingtips. Then there is my big thigh, narrow hip, short waist, and no butt heritage, which means most dress pants look like I've either pulled them up to my ribs, or I'm wearing a soggy diaper: very attractive. I've actually worn a kilt to a wedding twice, and I'm not THAT Scottish. 

That leaves me at the shirt and tie: I have an 18.5 inch neck, and 56 inch shoulders, most shirt manufactures seem to operate under the assumption that I'm also 9 feet tall with my knuckles dragging on the floor! For me, just being able to fasten the top button of a dress shirt is a triumph, I have to wear V-Neck t-shirts just to avoid choking, and I usually have to roll up the sleeves to avoid a possible tripping hazard. And ties, I love ties! I love the way they're displayed in the stores, I love the colors and materials they're made of, so much, that I occasionally forget how I'm made and buy them. I own 40 or 50 ties, but wear them? Nope. Yet, I also cannot bring myself to part with them. I hide them, instead, in the back of my closet like some dirty little secret. A rack of rainbow colored, silk shame for some relative to find after I'm gone. 

I am not disgusted with myself, but fascinated by the other. The same feeling you get when visiting a foreign country, or even the zoo. When I see a well groomed man in a suit, somewhere in my brain I am wondering, what's their habitat? What do they eat?

When I Grow Up

I want to be a tight t-shirt wearin', middle aged, daddy bear pastry chef, who writes cookbooks and teaches others to cook for themselves. There I said it. That's what I want to be when I grow up. You know, since the position of "quadruple threat"  Hugh Jackman is already taken, and demigod seems like an over-reach given my skill set. Seriously, is there anything Jackman can't do?

Don't be thrown off by my use of humor; I earnestly believe it's possible to be vital and active, eat healthfully - and deliciously - at any age. And I'm out to prove it. I believe too that people with dietary restrictions shouldn't have to forgo pleasure even though certain ingredients or whole food groups are off the menu. Of course you have to regulate your eating habits, and make choices. I call this mindful eating. But enjoyment should never be off the menu, especially when you're choosing to eat well. 

There is a catch, all the foods you eat must be cooked by you, or another human, meaning, a chef, a skilled (or not so skilled) cook that you can actually see doing the work of cooking. Yes, it takes time to cook for yourself, and workout/exercise, but it doesn't need to occupy all of your time. It's about living a good full life, in which work, friends, family, all take a balanced role. And yes, I'm willing to use my own body, mind, and life, to make my point. 

So, I have the gym membership, the t-shirts, and the paperwork to go to culinary school is in the works. I am officially moving this from my "maybe someday," dream list to the "next big adventure," category. It may not happen for another whole year, but it's going to happen.

Meanwhile, here's a picture of an oat bran muffin:

Why I lift weights...

Weightlifting has the same resonance, for me, as the ballet bar. Dancers spend literally years of their lives bending at the knee and standing back up again. It's a simple movement, but to do it proficiently, consistently, not to mention beautifully, takes years, and the practice really never stops. You're not really perfecting a series of repetitive movements, you're building a foundation, a core of muscle memory that will keep you going when your own will alone isn't strong enough. As a younger person, I didn't get this. I hated doing scales and arpeggios in music, or marching "basic block" in drum corps for what felt like hours: I couldn't see it's value. I just wanted to practice what I had to learn for the next performance, and get on with it.  

Now that I'm older, and I have acquired at least SOME patience, if not with myself then with repetitive tasks, I've come to realize that the basics, are where it's at. This is, in part, because I've learned the value of improvement through repetition, and in a less concrete way, nostalgia. When I look back at my time in dance, theater, music, or drum corps, there may be a handful of performances I remember in any detail, but it's being in rehearsal with my friends that is clearest in my mind. It isn't just the weirdos - an extreme compliment - that I met in dance classes, gymnasiums, or rehearsal halls that I miss, it's the feeling you get from having tried and failed over and over again, before you finally gett it. It's the feeling you get when you hear your instructor say, "well done, do it again." It's not the crowds or applause that carry you through your life, it's the confidence you build, bit by excruciating bit, by experiencing adversity and, finally, exceeding your own expectations. Over time, I've become extremely process oriented. I think this happens naturally as we mature.

These days I have to tell myself, well done, do it again, (sometimes just for getting through the day) but I've never stopped needing that rush of achievement you get when you finally "nail it." And yes, there is considerably more grunting involved in weight lifting, but the controlled strength, balance and flexibility are the same. There is a rhythm, a groove, a pocket - call it what you want - that your breathing and movement must slip into if your going to do your best set, and most of them are not going to be your "best set." This approach pays as much attention to how well your lifting, as it does how much you can lift. I am always happy to sacrifice the latter, to ensure good form. 

The other, not to be under estimated, similarity between working out and ballet, is it's power to over-ride our natural compulsion of comparison. Sure, Giselle over there might be able to effortlessly wrap her leg around her head, while holding an eternal releve, and reciting her favorite sonnet. You may never have her extension, endurance, or body line, all of which are determined by genetics. However; when the music starts, and you take your place at the bar, the only things that matter are you, your body, your physical limitations. That's it, that's all you've got time for, or you're going to end up on your ass. The same thing happens at the gym, you cannot focus your attention on others and successfully do the physical and mental work required to lift weights. You can't, for that matter, afford to focus on your own problems and stress outside the gym. You have to inhabit your body and pay attention to the movement, and the messages your muscles are sending back to you, in a loop. In that way, it is as much a mindfulness exercise, as it is a physical one.  

Bears, Fish, and Water

I've spent what feels like a lifetime trying not to think too much, worry too much, stress too much. I've tried exercise, yoga, meditation, mindfulness, anti-anxiety medications, and cognitive behavioral therapy, and still I have physiological symptoms of stress. 

As much as I HAVE to get a handle on this, I think the one thing I can immediately let go of, is being stressed out about how often, and how intensely, I am stressed out.  What if I'm just a person who worries? Is that so terrible? What if it is simply where I am in life right now? What if I just accepted it? No internal, or external, judgement required. That, is a change I can make today. 

Yes, of course I'm going to continue with the exercise, yoga, mindfulness meditation, and CBT techniques I've learned, but I can also just let those worried and anxious thoughts be there. I don't have to engage with them, I don't need to add to them, just let them be present: like water to a fish. 

Bear Funk

Day four of this low grade headache. All I want to do is eat and huddle under a blanket.  I don't really feel like cooking, which isn't me at all, and the tea cannot be strong enough. Very little has gotten done all week. Don't get me wrong, I made meals and cleaned up. I dithered around with the laundry, packed lunches, and went with hubby to work so I could have private writing time in the library, not that I did any writing. The cats got fed, email got checked, bills got paid, etc. But on a comparative scale, nothing got done. 

I know what this is, and it's more than just a January Funk, it's depression doing it's best to knock me to the floor, and I'm doing my best to fight it. Thing is, I like winter with it's stark beauty and cold temperatures. I like the way the seasons give shape to life, even if that means the sun is hard to find in the grey sky. I like sweaters, coats, and blankets. I like gloves, scarves, and long-underwear. So isn't the weather, but it could be the low levels of sunlight.

There are other factors and real stressors in play here. My extended family lost one member in early November, and a second is in hospice care. While the celebrity deaths that have occurred recently are in no way comparable, added to the loss of two mentor/parental figures from my drum corps days, they have been weighing heavily on my mind. We are here for such a short time and I, in equal proportion, don't want to do anything at all, and don't want to waste another second of my time. 

So, stage one of the prescription: take a double dose of my multivitamin, (B12/D complex) get dressed, and go for a walk - freezing cold or not. Stage two: eat as healthfully as possible and don't worry about how often. Stage three: celebrate every small accomplishment like it's a big victory. Stage four: add four minutes of tanning time to my gym routine to help with Vitamin D absorption, and a few minutes in the sauna couldn't hurt. 

And repeat.