so brave

i have read maira kalman's book three or four times since purchasing it against my budget's will in december. i reread it again this week, this heartbreakingly confusing week. and i keep coming back to this quote starting at "how are we all..."

sorry and proud. this is precisely how i feel this week. 

there is so much to weep over.

there is so much to relish in.

"what to do? what to do?" i wonder.

looked on and loved.

a month or so ago, i stumbled on a poem by doris ferleger.

it moves me.
it helps me love myself.
it brings me back.

i am memorizing this poem because of the fifth line.
i repeat it over and over again when i become anxious at another body or phrase.
and i remember that i am that tilted fir, which is looked on and loved.

Daily he told me I was beautiful,

my breast cupped in his palm cured

me of any doubt. So you see why

I cannot gaze at my own nakedness.

Mirrors tell you nothing about love.

The tilted fir outside my window

stands taller than our house. Even if

I described each tuft, counted

branches, became its mirror,

you could never love it as I do,

understand how it kept me faithful,

stood watch with me when the other tree fell.

doris ferleger, "mirrors"

good and safe

i saw this above picture on pintrest* months ago. i caught myself in the middle of smile when it came to my attention that something was awry. at first, i thought it was funny. i assumed myself the fit girl, began to question this, and concluded i was the skinny girl. i, uneasy and flustered, had been targeted by a picture with eleven words on it. guess which one is the most important? oh, you don't have to. it's been highlighted by it's designer. 

this phrase: 

dehumanizes women by reducing them to bodies,

we are physical beings, yes. but we are intellectual, emotional, spiritual, and social beings as well. relegating these aspects of our humanity to the corner is damaging. it fractures our sense of self.  we begin to forget that we have more to offer. we get confused about food and clothes and exercise. we take part in dehumanizing other women - our friends, our enemies, and strangers - when we use this language. this language does harm to how we perceive and treat ourselves and others. it is self-sabotage in the sneakiest of ways.

divides bodies - not people - into camps, which are identified as bad or good or best,

this is important. because it does not compare the way we love well or live well, which is something i touched on here. the division is concerned with the ephemeral - bodies, which we do not have a say in (for the most part). it is concerned with flesh that will meet life-experiences (pregnancy, cancer, etc.), age, and decay. sidenote: it only follows that society dismember the woman further: to her parts. she becomes her legs, her breasts, her bottom, or her waist. all of which are up for public opinion and critique.

and it does these things while hiding behind the guise of exercise and self-care.

it pretends to champion an ideal of fitness - the goal** of which is to carry out functions well - while subervtently offering us a more tangible, obvious goal: the promise of hott bod. will a firm, toned body be the result of a life that incorporates exercise? maybe. but it isn't a guarentee and it certainly isn't the point.


Few feel 
good and safe 
in their bodies.
susie orbach

i believe that the above picture is a way for a person who feels bad to feel good, who feels unsafe to feel safe. we are fighting to feel good and safe and are, unfortunately, doing so in a way that is violent and oppressive to other women clawing for the same thing. we are waging war on those that have dismembered us by ripping ourselves apart. we are unjustly punishing those that have offended us with their bodies, which we covet.

kyrie eleison.

christe eleison.

*other pins that do similar things: this, this, this, and this. they may seem benign and funny but they are part of societal consciousness that i want nothing to do with.
**other benefits of fitness: strengthened muscles, bones, ligaments, tendons, and immune systems. improved endurange, balance, performance, circulation, and memory. lowers risk of heart disease, diabetes, cancer, osteoporosis, strokes, and high blood pressure/cholesterol. helps make rest more restful. healthier pregnancy and fewer childbirth and ovulation problems.  these are the reasons we exercise. 

wishlist

update: crossed out items have been purchased

bodies
by susie orbach
and
fat is a feminist issue
and
the impossibility of sex
and
hunger strike

and
on eating

like i have said in these posts i am working towards a better understanding of body and beauty. sometimes i cringe in comparison, sometimes i am brazenly confident. knowledge (and the internalization of that knowledge) will hopefully help level this all out. i want to speak intelligently about this subject. i want to confront this issue with understanding. i want the language and the facts. miss orbach knows these things. i want to know of bodies of art of beauty. if you have any suggestions on the matter, please say so.

anything, absolutely anything written by norah ephron.

a collection of her essays, perhaps? [i feel bad about my neck, heartburn, i remember nothing, scribble scribble, crazy salad... just to name a few] i read an article she wrote on breasts, which made me laugh and feel unusually close to her. she gave me the gutspa to buy only lace bras in celebration of myself. the original article on Esquire.com has been removed since her passing this year but you can find it here. she is the mind behind romantic comedy you've got mail. fantastic.

the bradbury chronicles
by sam weller
i was reading a book called steal like an artist by this guy. if you watch the video you will know why i chose this book. in eighth grade i read farhenheit 451. it was then that i thought, you can do this with words? i was shocked. i was pleased. and i began to write better because of it.

is everone hanging out with without me? (and other concerns)
by mindy kaling
i think i might be a tad obsessed with her at the moment. her new show the mindy project is the love child of confessions of a shopaholic, mean girls, and thirteen going on thirty. all movies i adore. she is funny. she is smart. she is one hell of a writer and her sense of humor is stellar.  i wish she were my adopted indian sister. i'm not sure if reading kaling's book means i must read fey's bossypants, but i'm not against it.

i already have a stack of books i am reading. not to mention the ones on my trunk and the ones on my shelves and the ones in my ralphs crate that have not been scoured. but i will have to agree with john waters, the writer and director of hairspray (88):

nothing is more important 
than an unread library.

yes, mister waters, yes.

the thief

yes, my dear it is.

i have bouts of comparison. remember, the beast will be fed. whether it is by calculating the going-ons of others or by analyzing the bodies of others, it will be filled. it takes one thing. a thin waist, a full bust, a flat stomach, toned ligaments. one thing.* and these bouts fight to overtake me - despite my knowledge about retouched photographs, the variety of bodies on this earth, and my own value as a dearly loved child of God.

i am beginning to shape a healthy concept of the body. and the body in relation to beauty, which is learned by comparison. well, i have been worked over by comparison. exhausted and disheartened by it.

the other day at a water park with the daycamp i work at, a coworker asked if she should take off her shirt (she was wearing a two piece and was worried it might be too revealing). please, no was all i could think. i am well aware of her near perfect body (see my language here? indicative about my relationship with bodies.) and would rather it not be displayed. but of course, i told her it was fine as long as she felt comfortable. and she was. off with the shirt! sigh. i promptly turned to watching the children. well, to pretending i was watching the children. i was actually looking at the bodies around me. old. young. tight. loose. wrinkled. pudgy. muscular. rail-thin. voluptuous. there was so much diversity in size and shape.

i pondered their beauty. and their bodies. i watched the way the held their children. the way they enjoyed the water. the way they spoke to strangers and family. and i decided that loving [people, God, yourself] well is the goal. there is no point in maintaining a flat stomach or spending inordinate amounts of money on implants if i don't love well. the aim of life is not the preservation of some aspect of youthfulness, is not the attaining or replicating of some cultural consensus of what a beautiful body is.

fact: i, having been given new life through Christ, no longer have to answer the

demands of dominant culture. but can instead dismantle the idealogies

that oppose the gospel - that reduce me to only a body, to only my appearance.

and in doing so, i have the gift of choosing other than what 

is demanded of me by the principalities and powers of this world.

that day at the water park, i decided that their body has nothing to do with mine. their size and shape and allure (read: attractiveness, sex appeal, down right cuteness) is entirely their own. it has nothing to do with my size and shape and allure. their beauty does not negate mine. the two are separate and should remain that way. i have no business comparing myself to them. pay attention to your own life stacey. don't look to the left or the right. i resolved that self-care (eating well, exercising to maintain health) is important. and realized how self-loathing often parades around as self-care. desire for a perfect body masquerades as desire to take care of yourself. i decided that what makes someone beautiful has very little to do with their shape or size. i decided that worrying about if i come across as beautiful, the most beautiful, the most sexy and appealing is foolishness. and that i cannot continue to pick and choose parts of peoples bodies and put together an ideal body by which i measure myself by and try to emulate. i also must stop assuming that others are measuring my body against this ideal. again, pay attention to your own life stacey. don't look to the left or to the right. i can hardly handle my own comparisons, why should i be curious about how others compare me? foolishness.

more than a beautiful body, i want a well-lived life that is permeated by love. love that releases me of any fear or insecurity produced by years of comparison.

lord jesus, thank you for showing me what matters and what doesn't. thank you for providing a way out for me - one who is addicted to the praise of others, one who believes she isn't good enough the way she is. thank you for releasing me, little by little, from a life burdened by comparison and competition with others. father in heaven, thank you for being my joy, my steady - the One from whom my identity is derived. you are good. and desire that i be formed into the image of your son by the power of the holy spirit. and that image has nothing to do with my size or shape or allure. and has everything to do with the kind of person i am in light of the gospel and your great love. 


*comparison is not limited to bodies. but you already knew that. it can attack a person's talents, life situation, relationship status, economic status, job security, intelligence.... the list envelopes every aspect of a person's life. and so while i am thinking about bodies, here, i can apply it to all of these areas i find myself scrutinizing and measuring up against any and all ideals.

p.s. i always hesitate in pressing "publish" on a blog. i fear i am not as thorough as i should/could be. or that i forgot to say something. but there will be other posts. and there will be other things to consider. and there is ample time.

that better life might grow

one would think that graduating college would give me more time to write.
and i suppose it has but i just haven't made it a priority like i have
friends
family
running
reading
working
or
resting.

i will get back on it soon.
it just takes one post. and another.
and the courage or motivation to write another.

but today i have a quote, and my reason for posting this quote?
i am memorizing john 15:1-8 right now.
and upon opening my devotional this morning i was delighted to read this quote.
and think of my tiny roses given to me by the feller that sit on my window sill -
whose leaves grow green but lack buds.

"any good gardener knows that beautiful roses require careful pruning. pieces of living plant have to die. it cannot just grow wild. we cannot simply 'celebrate growth.' it is more than to be regretted, it is tragic that we seem to have lost the insight that growth in Christ requires careful pruning. pieces of us by our intentional action need to die if we are to become the person that is in God's vision. we are not cutting away a cancerous growth, but making room for intended growth. mortification refers to that intentional action of pruning of life that better life might grow by God's grace - just as better roses grow by God's grace."

urban t. holmes III

spirituality for ministry

there is more to it but this is all i can swallow at the moment.

today my niece and nephew graduate high school and middle school respectively.
they will undoubtedly shy away from pictures, contorting their faces or hiding behind hands or tough exteriors. but we will all take pictures. and they, looking back, will be forced to recall how aggressively they recoiled from the camera.
i love them.
i am filled with hope for them.

grace.

confess

"no, it isn't easy living with hearts like ours: let us confess it."

-carlo caretto, the God who comes

keeps living

waking up at three thirty isn't so bad when you went to bed at around nine pm.

did you know the birds are awake at this hour?
the world keeps living while i am sleeping and typing.
and while i may feel uneasy about this at times, it is encouraging to know that the world does not hang on my attention to it. that i am, as important as i'd like to believe that i am, not all that important. well, at least not in the sense that i keep the world going.
just a thought at 5 in the morning before i shower and eat and type more.

even my soul is wet.

did you know that this month is national poetry month?

the library at my school reminded me with this poster. 

fact: i love watercolors.

i want to write. in color and sideways on paper without lines. in black and white on screens with fonts much more legible than my own. i want to write. feelings. not just about feelings. but to completely encompass and write out the feeling itself - in all of its vibrancy, in all of its melancholy. i think this is why the romantic period is my favorite period in music history. the feelings aren't explained or deconstructed - they are experienced.

here is a poem for today, and probably this month (because this month i graduate and there is not much time for poetry, or posting poetry, when one is graduating):

Here I love you.
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters.
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other.

The snow unfurls in dancing figures.
A silver gull slips down from the west.
Sometimes a sail. High, high stars.
Oh the black cross of a ship.
Alone.

Sometimes I get up early and even my soul is wet.
Far away the sea sounds and resounds.
This is a port.

Here I love you.
Here I love you and the horizon hides you in vain.
I love you still among these cold things.
Sometimes my kisses go on those heavy vessels
that cross the sea towards no arrival.
I see myself forgotten like those old anchors.

The piers sadden when the afternoon moors there.
My life grows tired, hungry to no purpose.
I love what I do not have. You are so far.
My loathing wrestles with the slow twilights.
But night comes and starts to sing to me.

The moon turns its clockwork dream.
The biggest stars look at me with your eyes.
And as I love you, the pines in the wind
want to sing your name with their leaves of wire.

Pablo Neruda

look again.

nothing good gets away.

today before attempting to do homework. i found this here..

it made me smile.

JOHN E. STEINBECK

A Letter to His Son | New York | 10 November 1958

Dear Thom:

We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.

First -- if you are in love -- that's a good thing -- that's about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don't let anyone make it small or light to you.

Second -- There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you -- of kindness and consideration and respect -- not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn't know you had.

You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply -- of course it isn't puppy love.

But I don't think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it -- and that I can tell you.

Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.

The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.

If you love someone -- there is no possible harm in saying so -- only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration.
Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also.
It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another -- but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good.

Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I'm glad you have it.

We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can.

And don't worry about losing. If it is right, it happens -- The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.

Love,

Fa

in your chest: all gifted

update: crossed out items have been purchased

"if you can't let go, you can't put your heart back in your chest."

via iain thomas.

also, i want the book of poetry he recently released.

it is based off of his blog, which i frequent.

let love

sometimes letting love grow means saying no to things that
prohibit
stunt
terminate
growth.

i commit myself to this.
to saying no.
as often as growth requires.
because growth isn't as bad as i used to think.

today i am eager for growth.
and am thankful for the growth that has occurred.

life delights in

yes, yes, yes.

critical, potetent, fertile

"After nearly two years, I had absolutely nothing tangible to show for two whole years of my life.....I wanted my new life to start yesterday. So why was it taking so long?.....Have I mentioned that I'm really bad at waiting? I wanted to fast forward through the whole process and find out where I was going to BE. Which means (you guessed it), I was definitely not living in the moment.....I've since realized that those two years were critical, potent, fertile years of development, during which I planted all the seeds that are now blossoming.
I now call those two years my Waiting and Becoming years."

dr. lissa rankin

stolen from this lady.

even if

sometimes fear persuades me otherwise.

but not today.

i have resolved to live truthfully.

to live exposed.

even if i feel just that.

(naked, without covering)

even if i have done a destestable job thus far.

today i know that i can choose other than

what is easy or what i am used to.

and today i will do just that.

p.s. sometimes other people say it better than i ever could.

if we will only

i need to be reminded that love can be at the center of all things,

if we will only keep it there.

-kathleen norris

courage

story of my life right now.

to enable us

"O God, our Father, we remember at this time... how the eternal Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

We thank you that Jesus took our human body upon him, so that we can never again dare to despise or neglect or misuse the body, since you made it your dwelling-place.

We thank you that Jesus did a day's work like any working-man, that he knew the problem of living together in a family, that he knew the frustration and irritation of serving the public, that he had to earn a living, and to face all the wearing routine of everyday work and life and living, and so clothed each common task with glory.

We thank you that he shared in all happy social occassions, that he was at home at weddings and at dinners and at festivals in the homes of simple ordinary people like ourselves. Grant that we may ever remember that in his unseen risen presence he is a guest in every home.

We thank you that he knew what freindship means, that he had his own circle of men whom he wanted to be with him, that he knew too what it means to be let down, to suffer from disloyalty and from the failure of love.

We thank you that he too had to bear unfair criticism, prejudiced opposition, malicious and deliberate misunderstanding.

We thank you that whatever happens to us, he has been there before, and that, because he himself has gone through things, he is able to help those who are going through them.

Help us never to forget that he knows life, because he lived life, and that he is with us at all times to enable us to live victoriously.

This we ask for your love's sake. Amen."

william barclay

prayers for the christian year