Our culture is obsessed with youth. This is not news. I believe that any thinking person over the age of 30 would agree that this is something we need to change. However, I would propose that even those who recognize this imbalance could perhaps use a focus adjustment as well.
I have a friend who recently posted on Facebook that she had been accused of trying to “hide” her true age by how she dresses and acts. Her response to this was quite understandable … she first “outed” herself by declaring her correct chronological age, and then defended herself by saying she’s never tried to mislead anyone about how old she is. The responses of her friends and supporters shared a basic theme – that she is beautiful and doesn’t look her age and shouldn’t worry about it.
That’s very nice, but it still places the emphasis on the wrong part of the problem, in this writer’s opinion. To try to comfort someone by telling her she “doesn’t look her age” is to play into the myth that younger is better. We tell a 40-year-old she doesn’t look a day over 30, or we assure a 55-year-old grandmother that she sure doesn’t look like a grandmother. While these are apparently positive and supportive statements at first blush, the reality is that they imply there’s something wrong with “looking like” a 40-year-old or a grandmother; and further, that there even IS such a thing. What does a 40-year-old look like? What does a grandmother look like?
And WHY do we blindly accept the presumption that it’s better to be young? Why do we deify youth in this culture? I purport that this has come about largely as a result of some very successful marketing strategies used by just about every advertiser in the world. After all, marketing is based on the premise of supply and demand. You can either perceive a demand and supply what’s needed to fulfill it, or you can CREATE a demand, supply the promised fulfillment, and get rich, rich, RICH!
If I can convince you that who you are, how you are, is unacceptable, then the sky’s the limit as to the products I can sell you to make yourself once more acceptable. And since every human is growing older every day of life from birth to death, what better lie to sell than that younger is better? We’re told we should strive for skin that’s as soft as a baby’s bottom; a face with no lines or wrinkles; eyelashes that are long, dark, and thick; a figure resembling that of a pre-pubescent boy; and for God’s sake we must NEVER let our natural hair color show!
Why? Why is baby-butt skin better? How can eyelashes make you more desirable? And who said being pencil-thin is the way women should look, even if that were possible to achieve? THE ADVERTISERS WHO WANT YOU TO BUY INTO THE MYTH SO YOU’LL BUY THEIR PRODUCTS, THAT’S WHO!
My real-world, reality-on-the-ground, not-made-for-television life experience has shown me things that are quite contrary to what the advertisers want you to believe.
One of my best friends met her husband when they were both in their late teens. They’ve been married for 40+ years now, and a few years ago he told me of the night they met. He saw a beautiful 17-year-old across a crowded room (literally!) and fell madly in love at first sight. He told his buddy standing next to him, “That’s the girl I’m gonna marry.” He described to me in painstaking detail – lo, these almost 40 years later – what she was wearing, how her hair was fixed, and who she was talking to. That in itself was heartwarming and incredible, especially coming from this outwardly gruff, car-racing redneck of a man; but what followed brought tears to my eyes. He looked into the kitchen at his now-50-something-year-old 20-pounds heavier wife in jeans and a stained sweatshirt, no make-up, unkempt hair, her hands in dishwater, and his eyes grew misty as he said, “Every time I look at her, that’s how I still see her, and I fall in love all over again.”
My own grandfather, twice-widowed, fell madly, passionately, head-over-heels, giddy-as-a-teenager in love when he was 80 years old. Always the strong, silent type, characteristically a man of very few words, he gushed effusively about his beautiful lady love, who he married and remained mad for until the day he passed from this earth ten years later. He thought she was gorgeous and sexy and amazing. She was also 80.
You see, the heart’s vision gets there a split second before the eyes’ view registers, and THIS is what we are actually responding to, albeit usually unbeknownst to us. But alas, we are spirits travelling through this plane of existence trapped inside these temporal bodies, and as such we tend to interpret our experiences and perception through the lens of form. We are attracted to, or repelled by, someone we just met and we attribute those feelings to something physical about that person, when in reality we are feeling the energy that person is emitting and THAT is what we’re reacting to.
Case in point? We can all think of someone – a celebrity or someone we know personally – who at first glance impressed us as not very attractive, but who, once we started to know them, became beautiful. And conversely, everyone knows someone who is aesthetically pleasing, but whose insides reveal an ugly person.
I am here and now calling for you, the people, to stand with me as we rise up and start a revolution! Let us no longer swallow the flavorless, unfulfilling pap being shoved down our throats by marketers. Let’s rip the scales from our eyes and start to “see” with our hearts. Let’s recognize that there is beauty in every person, and that it’s not connected to complexion or eyelash length or hair color or even – and perhaps most importantly – a person’s age. Let’s broaden our definition of beauty to include the place where beauty originates – in the heart and soul of a person. And most of all, let’s start to see, acknowledge, and proudly claim our OWN beauty. Let’s be the ones who teach the rest of the world that form is temporal, but spirit is ageless. And beautiful. ALWAYS!
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
FLESH
Do you ever have to re-learn the same life lessons more than once, or is it just me? I hope I’m not alone in this, because I already feel foolish enough.
I recently made yet another sojourn back to – and subsequently back from – veganism. I was born with a deep love and compassion for animals, and since the age of about five or six, when I discovered where meat came from, it has always bothered me to think of an animal dying so that I could eat its flesh. Although I was a healthy child, I was tiny and frail-looking, so my parents were constantly concerned with my food intake, and on most nights, my required number of bites of meat was apportioned to me and I was not allowed to leave the dinner table until I had consumed every one of those bites. Vegetarianism was not an option.
In what I now think of as the “middle years,” I was far too consumed by the romantic and social aspects of my life to give much thought to what I put in my mouth. But a few years ago, I decided to try becoming a vegetarian. At that point, I had vaguely heard of “vegans” (although I had no idea how to correctly pronounce it), but never seriously considered taking that route. It seemed like something quite extreme to me.
That first trip to veggie-land lasted about 2 months. I had done absolutely no research and was totally unprepared … I thought all I needed to do was not eat meat. So I ate a lot of eggs and cheese and peanut butter, and at the end of 7 weeks, I was feeling weak, cranky, and logy, and I was craving meat so badly that my poodle started looking like those cartoons where you see a big steaming plate of food walking around with four furry legs!
Since that first attempt, there have been several others, the most recent of which [before this one] was about 10 months ago, when I went vegan for the first time. That only lasted a couple of weeks, mostly because I was getting very weak and VERY hungry. I was far better prepared that time, having done extensive research, having calculated the protein requirements for my body, and scrupulously keeping a food journal wherein I tracked the grams of everything to ensure that I was getting all my daily requirements. But I was still hungry … no, I was ALWAYS hungry! It seemed that no matter how much wonderful, delicious vegan food I ate, I was never satisfied.
Now, let me share here that I am a survivor of an eating disorder, and that’s not something to play around with. I spent a full year conquering that problem many years ago, but it’s like a barely-visible wolf who is always looming just outside the perimeter of my life, watching and waiting for any opportunity to pounce and once more take control. Obsessive thinking is the culprit, and I know of no faster way to dive back into obsession than manipulation of my diet. Whether it’s giving up sugar to enhance my physical health, or giving up animal products to soothe my soul, the justification for the beginning of that journey becomes irrelevant as I realize the ultimate destination is the same – a quick fall into the quicksand of obsession.
And let me interject here that if you, the reader, are starting to look down on those of us who deal with this tendency, even ever so slightly, try this little thought experiment: Think of your favorite food in all the world. Imagine it, what it looks like, what it smells like, what it tastes like. Get such a vivid vision of it in your mind that your mouth starts to water just thinking about it. Now, imagine that someone tells you that you can NEVER have that particular treat again. Not that you can only have it occasionally, or that you must perform some feat or accomplish some task before you can have it – simply that you can NEVER EVER have it again. How does that make you feel? What if this omnipotent being told you that you can have anything else on earth you want, and as much of it as you like, but you can never have that again?
Chances are, just as the result of this little allegory, you are already craving whatever your favored treat is, and chances are even greater that you will be having some by the end of this day, or certainly by the end of this week. That is the power of obsession. You just dipped your toe into the edge of a sinkhole that almost sucked me under several years ago, and I will not go swimming in that particular pond any more if I can help it.
So last night, as I sat on the couch playing an online Scrabble-type game on my phone in an attempt to distract myself from the gnawing hunger in the pit of my stomach and the gnawing obsession in the depths of my brain, I began to realize that I was starting to move in a barely-perceptible but definitively circular motion … slowly and gradually at first, but in an ever-tightening pattern that would surely end with me getting drawn into the vortex and going down the drain.
That’s when I realized I had to end this journey, only days since its inception. I felt embarrassed and like a big failure. I have endeavored so many times and with such fervor to be my authentic self and live my beliefs, and I always seem to fall short. So I did what I have been known to do in moments of existential crisis – I called my friend Kathleen! Kathleen is filled with common sense and is one of the most pragmatic and logical people I’ve ever known. She is deep and spiritual and funny and beautiful and intelligent, and has this uncanny knack for kicking me in the ass and bringing me back down to earth when I need it.
I explained my dilemma to Kathleen – or at least this chapter of it – and she sat silent for a moment. When she spoke, her words found their mark in my soul in a very profound way. She said, “I think it’s great that you care about the animals so much; but you have to care about you, too.”
Wow! That was huge! I forgot one of the lessons I so consistently preach to others … you don’t always have to be at the very top of your own priority list, but you should always be ON that list. I was putting all God’s critters on my list, to the exclusion of yours truly! That can never be healthy.
So I decided that I must once more allow my errant inner pendulum to swing back toward center. Finding my balance is one of my major quests this time around, and I cannot abandon that pursuit. And so I will return to my habit of purchasing only organic meat and dairy, and of giving genuine thanks to the animals who gave their lives that I might eat, and mostly of making food a non-issue in my life.
Am I embarrassed to have played this episode out in such a public way? Yeah, a little. But deep down, I am proud … proud that I am brave enough to share my journey with the world even though I may take some ribbing; and proud that spiritual understanding, growth, and development that would once have taken me months or even years now happens in a matter of days or even hours!
Feeling exhausted, hungry, and a little defeated last night, just before I drifted off to sleep, I remembered one more thing I learned a long time ago but had since forgotten … although I am not a rabid, in-your-face Christian person, I do believe that Jesus was the most enlightened being who has ever traversed the surface of this planet, and he was definitely not a vegan! He went fishing and he fed fish to the multitudes following him. He also partook of the traditional Jewish Passover meal, with the main course being lamb.
So I start this new day feeling a bit battered, but delightfully incredulous at the wisdom and growth that keep crashing into my already-richly-blessed life. I am truly wealthy, and for this I am truly grateful!
I recently made yet another sojourn back to – and subsequently back from – veganism. I was born with a deep love and compassion for animals, and since the age of about five or six, when I discovered where meat came from, it has always bothered me to think of an animal dying so that I could eat its flesh. Although I was a healthy child, I was tiny and frail-looking, so my parents were constantly concerned with my food intake, and on most nights, my required number of bites of meat was apportioned to me and I was not allowed to leave the dinner table until I had consumed every one of those bites. Vegetarianism was not an option.
In what I now think of as the “middle years,” I was far too consumed by the romantic and social aspects of my life to give much thought to what I put in my mouth. But a few years ago, I decided to try becoming a vegetarian. At that point, I had vaguely heard of “vegans” (although I had no idea how to correctly pronounce it), but never seriously considered taking that route. It seemed like something quite extreme to me.
That first trip to veggie-land lasted about 2 months. I had done absolutely no research and was totally unprepared … I thought all I needed to do was not eat meat. So I ate a lot of eggs and cheese and peanut butter, and at the end of 7 weeks, I was feeling weak, cranky, and logy, and I was craving meat so badly that my poodle started looking like those cartoons where you see a big steaming plate of food walking around with four furry legs!
Since that first attempt, there have been several others, the most recent of which [before this one] was about 10 months ago, when I went vegan for the first time. That only lasted a couple of weeks, mostly because I was getting very weak and VERY hungry. I was far better prepared that time, having done extensive research, having calculated the protein requirements for my body, and scrupulously keeping a food journal wherein I tracked the grams of everything to ensure that I was getting all my daily requirements. But I was still hungry … no, I was ALWAYS hungry! It seemed that no matter how much wonderful, delicious vegan food I ate, I was never satisfied.
Now, let me share here that I am a survivor of an eating disorder, and that’s not something to play around with. I spent a full year conquering that problem many years ago, but it’s like a barely-visible wolf who is always looming just outside the perimeter of my life, watching and waiting for any opportunity to pounce and once more take control. Obsessive thinking is the culprit, and I know of no faster way to dive back into obsession than manipulation of my diet. Whether it’s giving up sugar to enhance my physical health, or giving up animal products to soothe my soul, the justification for the beginning of that journey becomes irrelevant as I realize the ultimate destination is the same – a quick fall into the quicksand of obsession.
And let me interject here that if you, the reader, are starting to look down on those of us who deal with this tendency, even ever so slightly, try this little thought experiment: Think of your favorite food in all the world. Imagine it, what it looks like, what it smells like, what it tastes like. Get such a vivid vision of it in your mind that your mouth starts to water just thinking about it. Now, imagine that someone tells you that you can NEVER have that particular treat again. Not that you can only have it occasionally, or that you must perform some feat or accomplish some task before you can have it – simply that you can NEVER EVER have it again. How does that make you feel? What if this omnipotent being told you that you can have anything else on earth you want, and as much of it as you like, but you can never have that again?
Chances are, just as the result of this little allegory, you are already craving whatever your favored treat is, and chances are even greater that you will be having some by the end of this day, or certainly by the end of this week. That is the power of obsession. You just dipped your toe into the edge of a sinkhole that almost sucked me under several years ago, and I will not go swimming in that particular pond any more if I can help it.
So last night, as I sat on the couch playing an online Scrabble-type game on my phone in an attempt to distract myself from the gnawing hunger in the pit of my stomach and the gnawing obsession in the depths of my brain, I began to realize that I was starting to move in a barely-perceptible but definitively circular motion … slowly and gradually at first, but in an ever-tightening pattern that would surely end with me getting drawn into the vortex and going down the drain.
That’s when I realized I had to end this journey, only days since its inception. I felt embarrassed and like a big failure. I have endeavored so many times and with such fervor to be my authentic self and live my beliefs, and I always seem to fall short. So I did what I have been known to do in moments of existential crisis – I called my friend Kathleen! Kathleen is filled with common sense and is one of the most pragmatic and logical people I’ve ever known. She is deep and spiritual and funny and beautiful and intelligent, and has this uncanny knack for kicking me in the ass and bringing me back down to earth when I need it.
I explained my dilemma to Kathleen – or at least this chapter of it – and she sat silent for a moment. When she spoke, her words found their mark in my soul in a very profound way. She said, “I think it’s great that you care about the animals so much; but you have to care about you, too.”
Wow! That was huge! I forgot one of the lessons I so consistently preach to others … you don’t always have to be at the very top of your own priority list, but you should always be ON that list. I was putting all God’s critters on my list, to the exclusion of yours truly! That can never be healthy.
So I decided that I must once more allow my errant inner pendulum to swing back toward center. Finding my balance is one of my major quests this time around, and I cannot abandon that pursuit. And so I will return to my habit of purchasing only organic meat and dairy, and of giving genuine thanks to the animals who gave their lives that I might eat, and mostly of making food a non-issue in my life.
Am I embarrassed to have played this episode out in such a public way? Yeah, a little. But deep down, I am proud … proud that I am brave enough to share my journey with the world even though I may take some ribbing; and proud that spiritual understanding, growth, and development that would once have taken me months or even years now happens in a matter of days or even hours!
Feeling exhausted, hungry, and a little defeated last night, just before I drifted off to sleep, I remembered one more thing I learned a long time ago but had since forgotten … although I am not a rabid, in-your-face Christian person, I do believe that Jesus was the most enlightened being who has ever traversed the surface of this planet, and he was definitely not a vegan! He went fishing and he fed fish to the multitudes following him. He also partook of the traditional Jewish Passover meal, with the main course being lamb.
So I start this new day feeling a bit battered, but delightfully incredulous at the wisdom and growth that keep crashing into my already-richly-blessed life. I am truly wealthy, and for this I am truly grateful!
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