Body Image

A project that I have been working on lately has required that I go digging in places where old photographs live.   I have looked in boxes in the basement, in photo albums, in the cedar chest, and it has been quite a little trip down memory lane.

I have seen family photos taken at every stage of our lives, collectively and individually.  Life is one continuous series of changes. Growing, changing, graduating, birthing, moving, growing up, moving on, etc.    I have seen pictures of the various places we have lived.  One thing I observed from that is that as far back as 1972, which would be forty years ago, I always made some attempt at growing a vegetable garden, wherever I lived. My conclusion is that I must really like to watch things grow.

Looking at old pictures of oneself is an odd experience, at least it is for me.  And it is an odd experience because when I see pictures now of what I looked like then,  I know that I did not feel like the pictures looked.  It is hard to explain and put into words.  Mostly it has to do with self-esteem and self-image and self-concept.   The self in my head has never been entirely in sync with the embodied self.

I saw pictures of me in my slimmer days.  There were a number of those time frames over the years, in my 20's, 30's and 40's.  Now I can see that there were times when I looked really great,  but I know, because I lived in my own head, that I never felt like I looked great.   I don't know how to explain that or even understand it, exactly.

In my early 20's,  once, I lost 50 pounds in a three month period, and went from a very large size to a very small size in a short period of time.   But I was unable to see that difference in the mirror. My inside could not comprehend my outside.

Now that I ponder all of this,  I can see that I was able to internalize being the overweight person,  but I was never able to internalize being the slender person.

While it makes me happy to see pictures of a beautiful young woman,  it also makes me a little sad, knowing that I never lived in her skin.

1982

Addendum:  After writing this, I looked up body image dysmorphia, having heard of that.  My own mental discrepancy between reality and perception does not rise to that level.  I have not suffered from anxiety, depression, nor compulsive behaviors associated with this mental peculiarity.

Laundry Complaints

I don't usually complain about household chores, and in fact, there are many of them that I downright enjoy!   I don't even mind washing dishes.  I suppose the only thing I really dislike is scrubbing floors on my hands and knees, which is sometimes required for certain spots.

Today was laundry day.  I saved up a lot of it, so I would have a full load of whites and a full load of color.  I suppose I don't usually wait so long, so it made for a lot of laundry.

Most of the white stuff belonged to my husband.  As I stood there for a long time, turning every piece from wrong side out to right side out,  I began to notice.  Mostly, it is just a rote, non-thinking activity.    First the underwear, then the tee shirts.  There were quite a few of each of those.  But then, I got to the socks!  Every one of the 24 socks were wrong side out.  When they are freshly washed, the fabric tightens up, so it is not easy to get your hand in there to turn them right.

This made me wonder if there was any possibility that I might get my husband to change his behavior.   Or is it too late to ask that?  Or expect that?   I can tell you that by the time I got the last of the socks folded,  I was rather annoyed.   It's a really good thing he wasn't home!

When he gets home and asks about my day,  I just might tell him!

Tomatoes Tomatoes Tomatoes

Back when the critters ate all my plants,  I gave up on gardening.  It was too depressing.  However, I ended up with a "feral garden",  one filled with volunteer tomato plants growing wildly all over the place, intertwined, on top of one another, so thick that I really had a hard time harvesting them,  though I have been doing that for weeks now.

Certainly, there have been more tomatoes than I could possibly use.  My most recent venture was yellow tomato preserves, a sweet concoction.  Before that,  there was tomato chutney, a hot dish.   And of course, there have been tomatoes in salads, BLT's,  and fried green tomatoes, to name just a few of the many tomato creations that have graced our table.

But I have grown tired of it, so yesterday, I ripped out most of the tomato plants from the garden.  You can see the remains.   I'll just leave those there,  even though I know that tomato plants will fill up the garden all by themselves.   However, I DO plan to have a fence installed so that I can have a real garden next spring.

Actually, now that I think about that we plan to be traveling all next summer, so there won't be much point in planting a garden, as I will not be here to tend to it.  So I guess,  I can postpone the fence for the year after that.

 Boy, am I planning ahead.

I have a particular vision of a lovely garden in my head, which has yet to be actualized.   But I'm confident I'll live to see it!

Patio Addition

Recently,  Gerry has  been working on a patio addition to our back yard.   It is almost finished, though not completely, as you can see from the one board that is not yet attached.

This has been a huge project, actually, involving a lot of digging, leveling, building the frame underneath.   Putting on the top pieces has been the easy part.  There is still a lot of screwing yet to be done.

But already,  we are especially enjoying the morning coffee routine on the deck.
It does not really work in the afternoon,  as the sun is much too intense and hot, though when cooler weather comes, that will probably not be an issue at all.

I used to enjoy sitting in the sun room to drink my coffee.    Because we had the sun room, there wasn't any reason to sit outside.  But now that I am sitting outside,  I do enjoy the cool morning air,  the cool evening air, and the closeness to nature.

It is like having a whole new room in our house.   Only, this one is outside, which proves to be a very lovely addition.

Garden Party

Our Sunday afternoon took us to a garden party at the home of old friends.   Their daughter, a college senior, is soon departing for a year in Tanzania.   She has been at a school in Florida for the past month,  learning to speak Swahili.

I do believe we have been to their garden party in the past, with spring flowers blooming.  This garden walk was clearly late summer.  It was amazingly lovely, considering how little rain we have had this year.

Their home is quite unique, especially the access to it.   You cannot see it from the road.   There is a "driveway" road leading to a small garage like structure, with a door.  You park in this driveway, and you enter through this door,  and the door leads down down down a number of levels of stairways,  until you reach the bottom, where a door opens to the yard and the house.   The house itself is round,  which makes for an interesting interior.   It is an unusual house, in a unique setting.  {It would not be appropriate for anyone with disabilities}.

Most of the party, and I am sure, much of everything else, took place on the extensive deck.

Perhaps we will go again next year, and see how the daughter made out in Africa, and hear about her experiences.

Funeral Detail

Today I officiated at a graveside service for a man, Andrew, who lived 94 years.   Although he lived that many years, clearly the most significant event in his life was his service to his country during World War II.

Following the graveside service, there was a military group there to honor his service.  Two of them tended to the folding and unfolding of the flag, which was then presented to the closest relatives.   A third member of this group played taps on the bugle.

The gentleman whose service we attended happened to have served in the U.S. Navy, and therefore, the dress uniform of the Navy veterans was   white from head to toe. They looked very sharp and professional, and felt honored to provide this service for their fellow soldiers.

Both of the sons spoke about their father, and although the father had lived a long and productive life, was a college professor, raised a family, made a positive and productive contribution to his community,  it was his service to his country which was most important to him.

A grandson-in-law had taken Andrew to visit the World War II Memorial in Washington, D.C., and that  somehow enabled him to find some closure for that time in his life.  The inclination of veterans of that war has always been to feel guilty about being one who survived.   The grandson commented that it was too bad that it took so long to build the WW2 Memorial and recognize the service of that generation.  In fact, by the time it opened in 2004,  many of them would have been long gone.

I think it was Tom Brokaw who called them the "greatest generation".    Two characteristics best describe this generation:   duty and sacrifice.

Thanks to all those past and present who serve this country,  making it a better place than it would be without them!

Defining Moments

The title of the sermon today was "Defining Moments'.  No sooner did the preacher start talking than my mind started wandering.  [For such in the nature of sermons.  No doubt mine sometimes provoke the same response].  I had read a book some years ago that challenged one to look back over their lives and see if you could identify some "defining moments".   I was reviewing the ones I had identified during my mental wanderings.

But I must add, that in addition to big defining moments,  there are also moments of great insight that can change one's life as well-- a new idea, a radically different notion, a change of perception..   I've had my share of those, too.   When I look at my life's 'defining moments', I can specifically identify only about half a dozen of those, which I think probably changed my life from that moment on.   The two biggest ones came later in life--in my thirties and forties.

The one in my thirties was "falling in love" and deciding to love again, when Gerry came along in my life.  As great as it was, it still took courage and conviction and commitment. It was a risk.  Needless to say, it was perhaps the best thing that had happened to me, up to that point, for sure!   This one was more of an instantaneous moment of recognition about what direction I wanted my life to go,  and who I wanted to share it with. But it was also an arduous process to get past many hurdles and challenges.

In my forties, I responded to a call to ministry. That event was not limited to only one specific moment,  though that was indeed a part of it.  Mostly, though, it was a long, very hard process,  a series of decisions and actions.  Those decisions and actions often took a great deal of courage and conviction and commitment.   It was not an easy thing to get up at 4:30 in the morning to drive to Rochester for an 8:30 class in the middle of the winter.  None of it was easy, but it was certainly all worthwhile!

The two things mentioned above, certainly defined my life for the next thirty years.

Now that I reflect on the preacher's message,  he repeatedly pointed to the words,  "Do not be afraid."

So when I try to contemplate whether or not other defining moments may be yet to come,  I will take those words to heart.   No need to be afraid.

Already, my cup runneth over!