Skinny shaming

You know what I'm getting tired of seeing?

This:

This:

And this:

Seems "skinny shaming" is a thing. For some reason I'm really noticing it at the moment. I see stuff like this in my Facebook news feed and quite frankly it's annoying...and hurtful. In my mind,  skinny shaming is just as hurtful as teasing someone for being overweight.

I guess you could say that I'm skinny. I find it hard having an objective viewpoint on this due to the fact that achondroplasia makes it look as though I have "junk in my trunk" no matter what I do, but I do know that I am lean because I work out regularly and eat well. I work hard at maintaining this level of fitness. I'm not going to deny that. It takes commitment and work. I get up at the crack of dawn two mornings a week to go swimming, I lace up my running shoes a minimum of twice a week to go running. I push my body to test it's limits, but I do it because I enjoy being healthy. My drug of choice is that naturally high feeling after I've completed a good run, a decent number of laps in the pool or a session of yoga. I love the feeling of vitality and energy coursing through my body. It's worth it! 

The only down side to being lean is that I've lost curves and I'm flat chested - but I'm OK with that. I've learned to be happy in my own skin. 

Looking back, I've never had a problem with my weight and, apart from pregnancy, I've always been on the leaner side. Good genes maybe? I remember my mother saying when I was a young teen that if I was average sized I would possibly have the same body type as one of my slender sisters. At the time I heard that with the ears of someone who was struggling with an eating disorder and my mind turned it around to mean, "You're fat". She didn't mean it that way at all, but my illogical mind took it that way.

Silly goose.

Good metabolism? Possibly. I've always been interested in and committed to being as physically healthy as I can possibly be, maybe that's it? I'm committed to being active. I walk a lot. I choose the stairs at train stations and in shopping centres rather than escalators. I like to move. I don't like eating junk or drinking soft drinks (soda). It's both a preference and a choice. Maybe my metabolism has adjusted itself according to these choices. 

I have been called a bitch because I am lean. That was kind of hurtful. I didn't really know what to do with that comment when it happened. Being a bitch for being lean and healthy? I didn't get it at the time...I still don't get it. Why?  If you're not happy with your own body and wish it were different, then the choice is yours. DO something about it, but don't call me (or anyone else) a bitch in the interim. Please. 

I wouldn't dream of insulting someone because of the body shape they inhabit - whatever shape it is. I feel concern for people who are unhealthy but to make personal remarks or insults is just not on! That WOULD make me a bitch. 

For this year

I know, I know....2016 started weeks ago and I haven't blogged yet. Normally I would have written about my theme of the year by now....but I've been thinking about a lot of things, and when I think about a lot of things I normally retreat into my cave and just, well, think. Don't worry...my cave is a nice little cave, filled with wool and crochet hooks, books, fabrics, music and movies, but it's the place I retreat to when I've got a lot on my mind and I don't come out until I have to....or feel like it.

Over the past few years I have had a theme word for the year. As I was meditating on a word for 2016 this verse kept coming to me. It wouldn't leave me alone....so in the end I decided that this entire verse would be my theme for the year.

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things. 

(Philippians 4:8)

I've been intentionally keeping away from  watching, reading and listening to the news for quite a while now. I can't handle the doom and gloom, the violence and hatred filling my screens. It brings me down, makes me depressed and affects my outlook on life. I start wondering if the world really is a horrible place. I start making generalized statements, such as "People are horrible," and therefore it starts affecting the way I relate to the world around me.

I think it was Mister Rogers who said that when he was a child and saw terrible things happen on the screens, his mother would exhort him to "look for the helpers". Helpers were always there, making bad times better. It helped him form a better outlook on life.

With all the therapy I have had over the past twelve months where I have unlocked some of the past and realised the root causes of why I do what I do, why I believe what I believe and why I think the way I think, I realised it could have been very easy to just dig a hole and spend a lot of time blaming and wallowing and being angry. But with this verse going over and over in my head like a soothing mantra I have been able to turn a whole pile of things around and learn valuable and insightful lessons from everything. The greatest of these is that people did the best they could with the tools they had and with the very best of intentions.

Sometimes people react out of their own stuff. Sometimes someone says or does something that touches sensitive trigger points in my heart and mind. It's up to me how I look at that and respond. Do I go the "easy" way and simply react, blowing up and causing more damage - both to myself and the person who touched a trigger point? Or do I stop, breathe, think and search within to work out what is really the issue? Did that person really mean it the way I took it or have I just reacted out of some unresolved issue?

All of us, each and every one, are fighting unseen battles. I think the kindest thing we can do for ourselves and our fellow human being is to remember that and grant each other some grace.

After the lights fade....

Rehearsing the nightmare. (photo credit: Jennifer Tran)

It’s addictive, the adrenaline that comes from performing; the collaborative process of taking an idea brought to the floor by one brilliant creative mind and then exploring, pushing, creating, experimenting, trying things out, recycling, rehashing and playing together.
Of going places in ones mind where you open up the Pandora’s box of daydreams and nightmares, secrets and desires, sorrows, joys and imagination; discovering aspects of yourself that you either never knew, were too afraid to explore or that you hid away because they were so precious that you needed to protect them from the scrutiny of others.
But in the safe environment, away from all that, you find a place where you can dare to give form to those dreams. You get to.set free that dancer, that diva, that beautiful creature you’re secretly proud of and want to show others.
The lights come up and there she is - open, unafraid, bold even. She is there in the light, the shadow and the darkness and invites others in to glimpse part of her soul. She pours the whole of her being into the character she inhabits, being a totally different creature to the person she is in her everyday life while at the same time knowing full well that in that moment, she is being everything she actually is. There is a stripping away of the roles she is expected to play - the dedicated mother, the wife, the daughter, the executive assistant, the friend - so that she can explore the light and the dark of who she is. Dancer, dreamer, envious bitch, wistful wanderer, diva, fashionista, lost, haunted, dreamer of nightmares.
Other beings inhabit that place with her and together they move and pulse giving and receive energy to and from each other as they weave together a world that is both familiar and foreign. Time and space cease to exist. The only places are those circles of changing light in which they stand. 

The energy is electric, the air alive with imagination. Dreams take form as they move through the space together; slowly…and in stillness. They discover together that stillness has it’s own energy and they learn to be still and just feel the dream unfolding.
The music carries them through the dream, evoking stillness at first and then leading them to a crescendo of chaos where bodies collide, writhe and give release to a shared energy. It’s easy to get carried off in that moment. Carefully rehearsed ideas can sometimes be forgotten in those moments, but the audience remains oblivious and the players just carry on, finding their way back to where they should be. It all becomes part of the dream anyway.
Then the music fades. The stage lights dim. The house lights come on, and she finds herself in a line with all the other beautiful creatures, taking a bow and feeling so high on adrenaline and endorphin she wants to do it all again. 

The dream is over but the memory remains - even in the exhausted muscles of her body she remembers.

A year of breaths

Dearest Stell',

I've taken a years worth of breaths.

When you left us so suddenly a year ago I could hear you from the in-between.

"Breathe Leis'.......just breathe."

So I did.

Not a single day has gone by this year where you haven't flitted across my thoughts at least once. Every single time I have sighed because I miss you more than I can ever express but smiled because I am so incredibly grateful to have counted you as a friend.

I've needed to talk to you so many times this year Stell'. There's been so many things I've wanted to share with you; things that would've made your face crinkle up with excitement in the way I loved so much.  I've wanted to ask your advice, get your perspective on things and tell you what I've been up to. It's been a rough year Stell'. I'm not going to pretend it hasn't been, but all throughout I've grown and learned and become more confident in my ability to handle what life's thrown at me. I've kept on breathing. Sometimes that's all I could do.

I'm getting proud Stell. Maybe not in the way people see the pride that you spoke about, but I've become proud of myself and everything it encompasses. I feel as though I've landed in my skin and finally appreciated this little body for everything it is rather than hating it for everything it isn't.  I'm alone, but I'm not lonely.  I thought I'd shrivel up and die being alone Stell, but I haven't. I think you'd be pretty chuffed with that news.

I can't ever see myself as being an outspoken and passionate disability rights activist as you were, but each time I am out and about being me, practicing my pride and doing things I love without hesitating worrying about what people are thinking, I know I'm moving forward. Sometimes change is small and comes from within. Thank you Stell, for opening my eyes to change.

I still smile like crazy when I hear Uptown Funk. I still feel you stroking my hand sometimes, especially when it approaches the anniversary of Chloe's long stint in hospital. I still feel your presence as I walk past the Art Gallery and remember the time you, Maddy, Sarah and I went to see the Picasso exhibition and one of the guards thought that Maddy was our carer. I still hear you shout out, "Crips ahoy!" when I see a group of people in wheelchairs. Every single memory makes me smile. To know you was to love you Stell.....and I really, really loved you.

I promise you that I'll breathe through another year, and then another....and some more after that. I'll keep practicing, I'll keep celebrating and I'll keep loving life, sucking the very marrow out of it (in spite of being a vegetarian!) in the same way you did. You may not have had many years Stell, but you LIVED. You really, really lived...and it's the thing I remember and loved about you the most. While you were here you LIVED.

Miss you Stell. Always will. xxx

Taking Stock - November

Well, here we are. The end of November. My goodness but hasn't this year been a doozy? I for one, will be glad to see the end of 2015. It hasn't been the best of years but it's also been interspersed with bright spaces of clarity and positivity which has stopped me from losing the plot completely.

I haven't been writing much. I know, I know, I know. I say that each time I come here and post. I've written wonderful words in my own head many, many times but when I come here to write it all down it doesn't seem to translate as well. I guess I'm trying to write feelings and they don't seem to translate well in black and white sometimes. As a result I leave it all unsaid so that it remains gold in my thoughts.

"Stay gold Ponyboy. Stay gold."

Time to take stock of the month that was November.

Making: 
Miss Maggie Rabbit from HERE.

All stitched up!

Details of Miss Maggie

She has been an absolute delight to make - so much so that I am in the middle of another one (just put the body together and ready to make her dress, shawl and boots!) and have also ordered her little friend Miss Juniper Kitty!

Cooking:

I'm pretty partial to this yummy Tomato and Lentil Soup right now.

Drinking:

Coffee - always coffee! I have one of these from Aldi and I LOVE it, but when I'm at work I get them from HERE!

Reading:
All the books in the Harry Potter series - currently reading Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince. I read through Harry's story every couple of years. 

Enjoying: 

My solitude. Never thought I'd say it, but I do enjoy it. It's peaceful.

Waiting:

For money to be released from the outcome of the court case following the attack on my dog back in May. After the money is released I will be paying back my parents, my mother-in-law and finalising the rest of the account with Lort Smith Animal Hospital. 

Wondering:

What my leave time over Christmas will bring. 

Loving:

Learning how to simply flow with my creative side. 

Wearing:

Dresses. I am loving long, maxi-dresses. Yes, I buy them in the smallest size possible and then re-hem them. They are so comfy and, if I do say so myself, flattering. 

Noticing:

The beautiful "country smells" in my neighbourhood. Early morning smells like cut grass, jasmine and willow trees. 

I'm also noticing the sounds of the different birds and the times they send out their calls - particularly the kookaburras who love to sing their songs at around 6am and 8pm every day. 

Feeling:

Content. I do so love where I live!

Above all things......

(I had no idea that today was World Kindness Day when i wrote this!)

Be kind.

I know that it's most often thought that love should be above all things.....but I've been thinking a lot about that this morning. I've been thinking about it because of an incident that happened over the past couple of days.

I think it's unrealistic to love everyone. I'll openly admit that I don't.  How can one love a perfect stranger? There are people I know reasonably well that I don't love. There are people I'm related to in one way or another that I don't love. It's not that I hate them. It's not that I don't like them. I feel ambivalent. That may sound harsh, but think about it for a minute...is it really that bad? I am served every day by lovely people in the post office. They are kind, polite, pleasant and give me good service....but I neither love or like them or dislike them. I am polite and kind and pleasant right back....because that's the way I roll and everyone deserves people to be kind, polite and pleasant.

OK....so I'm sounding all Stepford....bear with me.

Over the course of this week my workplace received an email from an individual complaining at what they perceived as a lack of service and communication. Naturally this is going to happen from time to time. An organisation cannot please 100% of the people 100% of the time. Some people are irritated by receiving information and communications on a fortnightly basis, some people are outraged when the said information is sent monthly. There's never a happy medium.

What disturbs me however is when the person delivering the complaint targets the organisation as a whole and the employees within. They make it personal and write in a way to stick a knife into the heart of the employee reading the complaint. They don't stick to the subject of their discontent but they deliberately set out to tarnish an entire organisation and hurt those working for it.

I was one of the first people who read the communication. I was hurt. I was not the one to respond to the communication. Someone else was, and they drafted a response,  checked it with a couple of other colleagues, edited it according to their feedback before sending it in response to the person. The response was measured, kind, explanatory and positive.

The response they received was not so much. It was mean and once again attacked the organisation and personally attacked my colleague.

I was more than incensed. What was written was completely unnecessary.

The thing I wish people would remember is that there are people reading these communications. People with lives, who have their own struggles. Was that person to know that my colleague is dealing with things that seem insurmountable right now? No...but that is my point. You can never know what your fellow human being is dealing with at any given point in time, so the best thing, the kindest thing is to always be kind. Always. I felt for my colleague so much.  They're dealing with so much right now and then to get attacked by a faceless stranger like that..... *shakes head*

All of us here on this big, blue marble in space deserve a little kindness. We all don't have to love each other but we can at least be decent and kind, showing respect and dignity in everything we say and do. All of us at one point or another, struggle with something. It may be a struggle simply to organise oneself enough to get out the door on time each day. It may be a struggle with an eating disorder, anxiety or depression, or it may be a struggle to cope with the care of aging parents. Notice that none of the examples I mentioned would necessarily have obvious symptoms that people could observe. Often, struggles are invisible.

Be kind. Always.

Just be kind.

Memes and Musings

You want to know something that annoys me?

Smug posts on social media about the longevity of marriage being attributed to the couple coming from a time where people fixed broken things and didn’t throw them away.

Do the posters ever stop to consider that when a relationship ends the couple are not necessarily “throwing it away”? Have they ever stopped to think that for years and years and years at least ONE of the two people in the relationship (often even BOTH of them!) worked long and hard to try and “fix” it? 

Thousands of dollars may have been spent on counselling and therapy and going on dates and holidays, trying desperately hard to make it work because somewhere, deep inside, the both of them remembered why they got together in the first place and were reluctant to let that go!

But in the end, no matter how much the couple may have wanted it, no matter how hard they tried, the brokenness persisted because, individually, they were two broken people getting more and more broken by the day trying so hard to make it work and trying to “fix” each other.

So, instead of “throwing it away” they reluctantly “let it go” because neither of them wanted to see the other one hurting anymore and neither of them wanted to BE hurt anymore. They both loved each other enough to know when to set each other free to learn how to be the best individuals they could possibly be on their own.

And even though they are no longer together there is still that yearning; wishing that somehow it could have been fixed.

So the next time someone wants to share one of those memes….give a thought to those who may have wanted “till death do us part” but parted so that they both could live.