Pretty Good Ugly

Secular Saturday Theology: Proverbs

I picked up my childhood bible last week for the first time since ??? It’s a complicated history, to put it simply.

I started in Proverbs because I always loved Proverbs. Little gems of wisdom, advice, and insight. I had a bookmark in there from church camp in 1996.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of bullshit in there too. The book mark has some disturbing questions on it, we might discuss that later but for now… I’ll sift through and find some gems. And boy does Proverbs have some.

So, what’s Proverbs?

Proverbs is a book of the Old Testament, and it’s basically a code of living, words of wisdom from King Solomon—son of David, some Jewish wisdom basically.

The book introduces itself as so:

“The proverbs of Solomon son of David, king of Israel:

For attaining wisdom and discipline; for understanding words of insight;

For acquiring a disciplined and prudent life, doing what is right and just and fair;

For giving prudence to the simple, knowledge and discretion to the young—

Let the wise listen and add to their learning, and let the discerning get guidance—

For understanding proverbs and parables, the sayings and riddles of the wise.

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools* despise wisdom and discipline.”

(Proverbs 1:1-7)

I’m all about attaining wisdom.

I’d like to pause here to comb through some fun language things:

“Discipline” does not mean strictness. Remember that a disciple is a follower. In our modern language, “discipline” is the practice of training people to obey rules or a code of behavior. Punishment is often used or implied as a tool of training. But in ancient times, a discipline was more of a practice. A study. A deeper connection and specialty. In current times, discipline can be used to describe an area of study, or a major in college.

So, wisdom, code of living, insight…

A specialized and prudent— we often conflate prudent with financially cheap or conservative, financial wisdom. But prudent means “acting with or showing care and thought for the future.”

I love the implication that wisdom is not something you achieve, it’s something you cultivate and continue to grow (“Let the wise listen and add to their learning”).

And FOOLS— the Hebrew words that were translated into fool, denote one who is morally deficient. A lack of a moral compass. Not a lack of brains. A very important distinction, I think.

I’m sure y’all can see why I like Proverbs. It’s a guide of wisdom. Oh! And wait until you hear the description of wisdom! I love it!!

Still in chapter one, verses 20-22

“Wisdom calls aloud in the street, she raises her voice in the public squares;

At the head of the noisy streets** she cries out, in the gateways of the city she makes her speech:

“How long will you simple ones** love your simple ways? How long will mockers delight in mockery and fools hate knowledge?”

This part I really like.

Wisdom is not quiet and guarded. She is loud! She is public! She is not locked in an ivory tower or tucked into a corner with her books. She is out there proclaiming…

Fun language notes: Remember again, “Fool” was used to denote MORAL deficiency. It wasn’t about intelligence, it was about right and wrong.

Also, “At the head of the noisy streets” in Hebrew, “Septuagint” meant “On the tops of the walls”. Which can imply not just a cry to those within her vicinity but a call to all. Wisdom wants all of us, not just some. She wants to show us all the way.

Simple here, also means one without MORAL direction, a person inclined to evil. Not about intelligence or lack of complication, but a lack of or a perverted moral code.

I find that’s an important distinction to make. Wisdom isn’t making fun of the uneducated, she is asking how much longer folks will marinade in our cruelty? At what point will we say, enough, let’s elevate the conversation and look for insight?!

Yeah, I love Proverbs. I forgot how much I loved Proverbs.

“I would have poured out my heart to you and made my thoughts known to you.

But since you rejected me when I called and no one gave heed when I stretched out my hand,

Since you ignored all my advice and would not accept my rebuke,

I in turn will laugh at your disaster; I will mock when calamity overtakes you—

When calamity overtakes you like a storm, when disaster sweeps over you like a whirlwind, when distress and trouble overwhelm you.

Then they will call to me but I will not answer; they will look for me but will not find me.

Since they hated knowledge and did not choose to fear the Lord,

Since they would not accept my advice and spurned my rebuke,

They will eat the fruit of their ways and be filled with the fruit of their schemes.

For the waywardness of the simple will kill them, and the complacency of fools will destroy them;

But whoever listens to me will live in safety and be at ease, without fear of harm.”

Yeah. I like Proverbs. That’s Chapter one.

Gentle Friday

It’s been a rough week for kidlet. I’m heading off to pick her up early from her after program because Things.

And I’m choosing to be soft when I get her. To connect first. And she doesn’t know this but I’ve packed her roller skates and some snacks in case that sounds nice.

It’ll be a low-key Yes-afternoon. She won’t know. But I’m just gonna soften into okay this evening.

Within reason.

Soften-into-okay-within-reason.

Got it?

Good grief. May the Force be with y’all cuz it’s hard out there.

Xox

Notes to Self: Dear Brooklyn Dancer,

The director was always on me about my weight. Never the work. Never my performance. My size. The amount of space I took up.

Note to self:

Sweet baby girl, you take up as much space as you can. The world is vast and the universe expanding. Cowards will try to make you small.

They will line their pockets with your insecurities. Starve them. Deny THEM.

Not yourself.
Restriction won’t help you grow.
And you can’t hate yourself to happy.

They will tell you over and over until you are telling yourself. “I am too much, I am too much.”

But repetition isn’t truth.

So hear this instead: we can be free. We can be free. It’s possible.

So let’s go chew something, shall we? Drink something warm. Cozy up and listen. The rain has stopped and the birds are singing. For now.

You are loved, by me and others.

Xox

Increased Agitation

Hi there. It’s cold and windy. Our PG&E bill was ridiculous even though we heat to 66 and run appliances during off hours.

I’ve been cranky and weepy and snappish. It’s been a lot already this year with the job loss, facial numbness, the brain scan, stuff with kidlet’s school, her big feelings, my big feelings, life just life-ing, you know?

And everything feels chaotic because it kinda is.

So I try to handle the things that I can.

I started to tidy my dresser top–not because I’m a tidy person, I’m a very spready person, I love horizontal surfaces… no, I don’t tidy because I’m tidy. I tidy because I’m a sloppy nerd.

I read that a huge amount of our nervous system processing is spent processing visual information. So when I look at a space and there’s a LOT to take in, it can be extremely overwhelming. A clearer space (even if it’s just my mess collected into a few containers or piles) is an easier on my brain space.

All this to say, I was clearing off my dresser when I came across my medical insert from one of the meds they put me on during all this weird brain/face thing.

“May cause increased agitation. May cause an increase in anxiety and suicidality.”

I sat on my bed and burst into laughter.

It was such a fucking relief.

My fuse was feeling shorter and shorter. A familiar rage that I thought I’d made peace with long ago had been rising within me. I saw myself getting saltier.

And I’d been doing the things!!! Going on walks, getting sleep, eating, drinking water, talking to people, meditating, and still losing my cool. After all the progress I’ve made over the few years.

And I know, progress isn’t linear, relapses, backsplash, ball change, and all that jazz. So I had accepted this recent upswell despite my best efforts as my own fault– part of my given nature.

Y’all. It’s been a side effect. (Perhaps a bit of this and that, you know… a rich tapestry).

And the most sitcom part of it all? My husband and I are chatting last night and I say, “Turns out a side-effect of one of the meds is increased agitation?”

And he’s like, “And anxiety. Oh honey. I’m so sorry. I totally forgot to tell you.”

But I couldn’t even get mad, I was so grateful.

Plus, he had rushed to the pharmacy before it would close to get me this medication when we had NO IDEA what was going on or what our future would hold.

I wasn’t even super mean to myself about not reading the insert because, again, keeping my eyes open was a challenge and then amid the everything it just… wasn’t a thing I remembered to do.

Until I was tidying my dresser top.

I’ve of course talked to my doctor, I’m weaning off that med and we’ll figure it out. We have so far.

So you keep doing your thing and I’ll keep doing mine.

Take care of yourself, you are loved by me and others.
Let’s go chew something.

xox, LC

How We Work: Lesson Two

Lesson Two in the “Fucking Fitness” Series

My super simplified version of human function. We have the executive suite (nervous and endocrine systems), operations (Cardiorespiratory and lymphatic systems), utilities (digestive and urinary systems), outreach (reproduction), and infrastructure (muscles and bones).

Read on for my shallow dive into the executive suite, or take this re-framing and run with it. We are more than just muscle, bone, and fat. Seriously.

EXECUTIVE SUITE

Behind it All: Nervous System: Brain, Spinal Cord, Nerves

The brain and spinal cord control and choreograph every function in the body.

At the core of everything is our brain and spinal cord. The brain processes everything, the spinal cord creates the freeway for the nerves to travel through. They wiggle out, and carry messages to and from the brain to the rest of the body. Sensory input, muscle control, all that runs through nerves and neurons.

Vice President: Endocrine System

The system of glands that make and release hormones works with the nervous system to control and coordinate… everything. Pineal, parathyroids, thyroid, adrenals, pancreas, pituitary, and ovaries/testes.

Hormones from these glands regulate everything from blood sugars and metabolism to heart rate in a stress response and calcium levels in the blood. We often think of hormones only in relation to puberty and pregnancy but hormones are involved in every single function of the human body.

Today’s Exercise: Improving Parasympathetic Tone
The body can be in parasympathetic response or in the sympathetic response. This setting determines/is determined by hormones and affects blood flow and all sorts of functions. Improving parasympathetic tone will benefit functionality of the systems.

Sit in a comfortable position. Better yet, lie down (if that is comfortable). Keep the spine long. Breathe deep and long. Exhale slowly through the lips. Close your eyes and continue the deep breathing.

Exercise Snack: Brain Break
Throughout the day, when it is safe to, close your eyes. The majority of our brain power is spent on visual processing. By reducing the input, we can reduce the workload and take a mini brain break.

Fucking Fitness: Perspective from a Silver Millennial, Lesson One

I’ve resisted this for years. I’ve resisted this for officially a DECADE now.

And now I’m giving in.

FINE. I’ll write about fucking fitness.

“WHOA?” You may wonder, “Why such hostility?”

Because the diet and exercise industries are so… fraught with dangerous messaging.

Because capitalistic systems have made BILLIONS off our insecurities while making us sicker and then shaming us for not being skinny.

Because American medicine misses the mark nearly every single time.

Because I’ve been at war with myself since I was twelve years old and it makes me FURIOUS.

And then I think… if by sharing some of my rage, experience, confusion, and hard learned lessons, maybe I can help one person avoid some of that pain, frustration, and shame

So FINE.

Please know that my hostility is aimed at our culture, not at you, dear, sweet reader.

I’m angry because we’ve lived our whole lives in our bodies and nobody taught us how they work. I’m angry because what they taught us what how our bodies SHOULD LOOK. Not what they do, or how they work, but HOW THEY ARE WRONG.

I’m here to tell you, your body is not wrong.

There is not one damn thing wrong with your body.

Let’s go over that again, I think it’s worth repeating.

THERE IS NOT. ONE DAMN THING. WRONG. WITH YOUR BODY.

I have to remind myself of that over and over and over because we are told over and over and over that our bodies are wrong and they need to be fixed.

Listen, my body has it’s stuff. My neck injury still reverberates in my body. Auto-immune diseases have confused TF out of my body. There are disabilities and diseases and disorders that live in my very cells.

This makes my body HUMAN. This does not make my body BROKEN. Even though it can feel like that. ** SIDE BAR for my Zebras

For the Zebras:

Being disabled and chronically ill is a reality that I won’t attempt to sugar coat. Y’all know. I know. It’s really hard to live in a rebellious body. In a defiant body. One that doesn’t obey commands. We may have components that don’t work in the way they are expected. That is true, it’s a reality. But a dysfunctional pancreas doesn’t mean that YOU are broken. A confused immune system is just that—one part. Our experiences will be different but I want you to know that I know your body is not wrong.**

Every body is different. I won’t speak for your experience but this has been mine—I’ve seen my body as “other” for most of my life.

In adolescence my body no longer felt like ME, I started to move out of my body and more into my mind.

My body became this battle ground—this enemy that I couldn’t control. It grew when I didn’t want it to and I started my campaign of cruelty.

Like two athletes who fail to recognize they are also teammates, I pitted myself against my body. Mind over matter, intellect over instinct. Mantras were repeated over and over, as if I could overpower my human needs by being smart enough.

By figuring out how to live with less, how to make as little of myself as possible, I thought I would WIN. I would beat my body and be victorious over my flesh prison.

And I stayed locked in battle for the next 20+ years.

So yeah, I’m mad. Because I bought every damn “Fitness” book and magazine they made from the 1990’s until a few years ago. And I stayed deeply in my eating disorder and exercise disorder while getting sicker and sicker and the advice I kept receiving was that I was lazy or stupid or doing it wrong.

So. Lesson one is a three parter. Let’s be clear:

There’s nothing wrong with your body.
You are not lazy.
You are not stupid.

Lesson One can and should be repeated often. ❤

Easy-Ass Dinner for a Friday Night

Okay, apparently it’s Friday y’all (what is time).

Here’s my easy-ass dinner for tonight:

Shredded Chicken Rice Bowls.

Chicken thighs, BBQ sauce, slow cooker and yes, I need to clean my counters.

Frozen chicken thighs into the slow cooker, cover in BBQ sauce. Low or Hi depending on your timing.

Gonna serve that over rice, so get the cooker set. (or frozen rice is ready in 3 min)

Rice in the cooker, attempting to use the timer feature!

This way kidlet and I can hang at the park longer, rather than needing to get home so I can start dinner.

I’ll steam some frozen broccoli to add some veg and we’ll call that good enough.

It won’t win any awards but it’ll do the trick.

Okay. Let’s hydrate y’all.

Xox

Greeting Cards

Today I was at Trader Joe’s and I bought a handful of greeting cards.

Over the past (however many) years, I’ve cultivated the habit of occasionally sending friends real mail.

All this because of my cousin Amy.

Amy is my cool older cousin who mailed me cards when I was in high school (and college).

High school (and college) were especially difficult for me. And getting a funny just cuz card was really lovely.

In my constant efforts to be half as cool as my cousin, I occasionally pop a card in the mail to someone I love.

Trader Joe’s makes this an extremely affordable habit at 99 cents a card.

This afternoon I went through my Shoe Box of Things and came across one of my Amy cards.

This wasn’t a just-cuz-from-your-cos card, this was my college graduation card. And it’s glorious.

Then inside “Okay, the puppet show response may not be so strong. People may not be ready for puppets.”

And for a Performance Studies major it was perhaps The Most Perfect Card.

Anyhow. The point of this post? My cousin is the coolest. She has cool tattoos and lives in Portland and is the reason I send cards.

And yeah, this card is getting the green light to transfer into the Suitcase of Forever Things.

Curtain Hemmer

I hemmed the curtains in my kiddo’s room this week. I did them by hand because I don’t know how to use the machine.

I lost my straight pins long ago, so I safety pinned the hem and basted it down and bam.

Not beautiful, but they no longer drag on the ground and that, my friends, is a beautiful little thing I didn’t know I could fix.

I’m leaning into the “good enough” and embracing “that’ll do.”

After so many years of push push push, and perfect or nothing, it feels rebellious to say “that’s good enough,” and call it a day.

Like my mediocre garden that brings me SO MUCH JOY even if it’s just a collection of succulents shoved into pots and the ground.

“Garden” may be a strong word but I’m claiming it.

A few bulbs here and there.

Some flowers and some coverage and the best damn garden I’ve ever had so hey.

It’s pretty good. Even though it’s kinda ugly.

Pretty good ugly. That’s the goal.

And, micro brag, but I’m 3/3 on meals today, how you doing over there? Had dinner yet?

All right. You know the drill. Moisturize, hydrate, rest.

You are loved by me and others.

Back in My Body: My Cells My Self

CW: Eating disorders, self harm

I’ve spent the last couple years getting back into my body.
Returning to my body for the first time since I was twelve is a fucking TRIP.
I didn’t realize how much I’d dissociated from my own existence until I started to move back into my cells.

Learning to stay in the hard moments instead of disappearing.
Learning to feel instead of escaping into pain or hunger or business.
Learning to allow instead of punishing.
Finally letting myself be human.

And in this time I’ve discovered so many deeper wounds that didn’t get to heal. That I just patched over so it was “fine enough.” And to be fair, it was more than “fine enough.” I managed to excel with my disease. I got into a top school and graduated Phi Beta Kappa with highest honors and continued to destroy myself. That’s one of the things that’s so hard for me to reconcile. My sickness didn’t look like a problem unless you looked really close.

As someone who has been conditioned to believe nothing is true unless it is noticed, I gaslit myself into believing that I was fine.

I can finally admit that my eating disorder never went dormant. That I have been living with her for whatever 40-12 is. 28 years? A LONG ASS TIME. Most of my life!!

There wasn’t a perceptible BOTTOM (from the outside), unless you count my tooth falling out my senior year in college, which was a wake up call for me and in hindsight the first step towards my recovery.

Yeah, my tooth came out, just sheered off in my mouth. Aftermath of years of purging. It was really terrible. I felt so broken and ugly.

But then they gave me a fake tooth and everything was “fine enough” again.

Though to my credit, I did stop purging after that, which I thought meant I had recovered. In hindsight I recognize that my disorder just morphed and I channeled that rage and fear and disgust into exercise.

Here’s another sneaky component of my disease.
It knows how to get applause. How to garner praise.

You see, since I am no longer slicing my skin or burning my body or throwing up,
I’m a fucking hero.

Instead I was logging hours on a treadmill, popping pills like it’s the 50s, and living off Diet Coke, gummy bears, vodka, and beer. Still lost from my body.

When I think of those years, they are so strong, they feel so close. But that was the early 2000s. That was nearly TWENTY YEARS AGO.

And since? There’s been progress. Or further morphing, I don’t know how to describe it.

I stopped diet pills after my heart went crazy on the treadmill (and the FDA banned the fake speed in them so what was the point after that).

Orthorexia supplanted anorexia/bulimia. Which again, gets praise.

Nobody thinks egg whites, spinach, and grapefruit is a problem, right? Isn’t that something to be applauded/praised/encouraged?

I exercised incessantly, which again got me praise. I became a personal trainer, I was held up as a Model of Health.

The thing is, when your interior monologue is as destructive and judgmental as mine is, nothing you do is healthy. No matter WHAT it looks like from the outside.

This is my hardest lesson. That my interior truth outranks exterior perception.
For so long my inner voice has been this harsh, critical, mean whisper/aside/yelling heckler. It’s easy to think that voice is my inner truth– but she’s not.

That voice, that inner mean girl, she’s actually trying to protect me.
I know that feels so counter intuitive.
That this destructive force may just be a corrupted protective instinct.

After all, I was only twelve when I created her. Twelve year olds make mistakes.

Now, this may lose some people, and may even be a further function of my disease, I don’t know, but hear me out–

My inner mean girl/ED voice– she isn’t entirely wrong.
Yes, she is destructive and unhealthy and dangerous, but she also brings some ugly truths to light.

I AM treated better in the world when I am in a smaller body. That’s not a lie. That is TRUE. I benefit, in society, from being smaller.

But the praise was never for me, it was always for my body, which I sensed to be separate from my self.

After a show, my performance was rarely complimented, but my body was constantly commented on. “I wish I had your abs!” “Ugh! Those dancer legs!”

This is where I come back to my inner/outer conflict.

My old thinking has me believing that because on the OUTSIDE it’s EASIER, then that is what’s true. But living that way, on the INSIDE, it’s fucking horrible.

It’s fucking horrible.

I have forfeited so much of my life. So much of my bandwidth, my spark, my energy, my time. I have passed the microphone to this mean voice and bullied myself from the inside.

So now, at 40, I’m going to try something new.

I’m gonna tell her it’s okay. I’m gonna invite her back into our body. I want to show her that it’s safe here. That she can relax. That we can be good inside. That’s available– we can just cozy up in our own cells and breathe and be good. Not just fine enough, but deeply good.

So I don’t know. Maybe try that. Snuggle into your cells, into your self. In with all your selves. They aren’t bad. You DON’T HAVE a bad part of you. It’s all good. Some of it is just… wounded. Misguided. Young. Even if we are no longer young, parts of us always are.

Okay, it’s 10:15 and I need to go have breakfast. Have you had more than just coffee?

Let’s chew something.

You are loved by me and others. xox