Something's coming....something good ?

I'm fairly certain that I have maybe one or two followers who actually take the time to check this long ago neglected blog with the hope of finding some new and inspiring food for thought, but nonetheless it's on my heart (not merely my mind) that I take a few minutes today and speak to why I haven't been blogging. There are always the usual suspects ; overworked, too long a commute without yet having a car, trying to keep some semblance of a personal life, sleeping, eating....you know how it goes. But I am not ashamed to say that I am currently on a very tedious and seemingly precarious journey with myself, and it hasn't left me with much to write about in the vein of true beauty and self worth. Many details are not up for public discussion, but lest anyone get any false ideas about how I got to the place I am now, it is not due to any singular person or specific situation. It has as much to do with years and years ago as it does the recent past and even the present, and it is not necessarily a negative place to be. It is, however, an extremely difficult one.

As I'm writing this, I wonder if I've ever suggested taking the time - the true and necessary time- needed to learn to be okay with oneself in any of my past blogging. I'm sure that many- if not all- of my truly beautiful interviewees have alluded to this in one way or another during our discussions, but the magnitude of that step is often lost in the day to day struggles, or in many cases, an unbelievably painful life event or long term battle. I'm not sure where this road I'm on is leading, but I feel I've been given the gift of knowing that I need to devote this time to me, whether I believe I'm worth it right now or not. And that's where I am.

I honestly don't know how often I'll be writing. I have a pretty big itch to do some interviews but sadly, it's much harder to find the right people in my current home town. Don't get me wrong, there are definitely people here who embody beauty in the full and true meaning of the word, but I have a strong gut feeling that they also need to have a healthy level of self-worth and a kind and loving attitude toward themselves in order to benefit from the interview process. Small towns - I'm reminded after being in the city for so long- tend to breed insecurities at a higher rate, so we'll see. I may also post a link or two to articles I find that are relevant to society's role in our views of ourselves and positive ways we can combat the negative side of this aspect, but again, it depends on where I am. Regardless, I hope that as I continue to take this time for myself, you will be inspired to do the same in whatever way is best for you.


I do appreciate your continued positive thoughts, as I hope you appreciate mine, but please join me in viewing this as a positive beginning. I hope to be "in touch " again as soon as I can, and hopefully my growth in my own self-worth and true beauty will finally be where it needs to be to inspire others in the way my heart has always hoped to do. Something's comin', something good....if I can wait.

YES!

Anyone who watches any sort of national news program in the US has- I'm sure- already seen or heard excerpts from this anchor woman's four minute response to an email she received stating in a nutshell that she is a bad role model because of her appearance. Even with our presidential debates in full swing, this story is still all over the internet and eliciting some very strong opinions on both sides of the issue. Despite my former longtime battle with the scale, my reason for sharing this video has less to do with the particulars of the situation and more to do with Jennifer's extremely powerful and equally eloquent message to both bullies and those who are affected by them. I cannot stress enough how VITAL this message is in today's society and hope to broaden and increase my personal activism on such topics with Ms. Livingston as a true inspiration. And a big thank you to her (and her husband and colleagues!) for providing me with an AWESOME reminder.

To Write Love on Her Arms....

An EXTRAORDINARY organization. Please take the time to visit the site this week in honor of National Suicide Prevention Week 2012, if you can.  The link below will take you there.


To Write Love on Her Arms

No Doubt....

"Doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother."

                                                      -Kahlil Gibran 

Trust who you are. Believe in what you have to offer. And please, please don't let anything or anyone cause your self-worth to waiver.

Newsworthy Part One....

I'm sure most of you have read about or seen television reports regarding these notable body image themed headlines by now, but just in case you haven't, I really, REALLY think they both have a lot to say. The first is regarding a young ballet dancer from Maine who managed to get Seventeen magazine to agree to keep from altering body shapes when using Photoshop via an online petition through Change.org. What I found most interesting is that I was sent two different articles about this triumph, and while both positive, one had a much more idealistic view of the "body peace treaty", and the other was anything but shy about continuing to put Seventeen and other similar magazines in the hot seat for failing to admit that they have, in fact, manipulated many images that have contributed to countless young women's obsessions with perfection, and by simply acknowledging that this "Photoshop Lite" approach, while very significant, is also quite small when looking honestly at how much needs to change about our culture's views on appearance and beauty. I've chosen to post a link to latter of the two articles because...well, I'm as willful as they come and I applaud these girls and women who refuse to stop until we all find a way to be at peace with our bodies. "Thank you" seems like an understatement.



http://www.csmonitor.com/The-Culture/Family/2012/0709/Seventeen-magazine-promises-to-stop-manipulating-photos-of-models


P.S. A very special thank you to Maile for passing these along to me and continuing to keep me hopeful and inspired. Stay tuned for Part Two....

Reflection....

*please visit thepoppytree shop on Etsy for the original image and artist info

I found this image last week during a late night perusal of Etsy. I was instantly captivated. Yes, it's a wonderful visual representation of the immense beauty that lies beneath the superficial exterior, but it also got me thinking about what we see when we look in the mirror versus the actual image reflecting back at us. We've all heard over and over again that we always see ourselves much more critically than anyone else does, and anyone who has battled an eating disorder or severe body image issues certainly knows just how extreme our distorted self-images can become, but working in the retail industry rooted in fashion (and thus appearance) for the past year has made me aware of just how distorted the average woman's view of herself has become. I can't tell you how many times a week I hear (in my opinion) completely unfounded complaints from customers and co-workers about how how fat or ugly or old or not good enough (etc.) they are. It's really quite shocking how much more people seem to give voice to their negative self-image in a smaller city, as compared to what was discussed among women I worked and socialized with in New York. To me this is a testament to how very out of control our society's obsession with perfection has become - specifically for women - and how detrimental it is to the essence of who we truly are. I know firsthand, as I have been far from immune to this overflow of negativity. But I also know that I do NOT want to live my life a prisoner to that poisonous thinking for one more second.


It's still difficult to focus when I write on my laptop due to my ongoing post-concussion syndrome, but as I'm finally in OT treatment for it, I hope to continue to post positive messages more and more often as means to combat what is clearly still a vicious epidemic in our culture. I don't know if it will make a difference, but I'm not giving up. There are far too many beautiful, worthwhile people who deserve to feel that way to give up now.

Breathe Me....

Fresh Air....

It's impossible for me to hide my excitement about this post ; not because of anything I have to say, but because of what I feel it represents. First off, I'm going to break one of my personal blogging "rules" and give thanks where thanks is due. I'm obviously willing to write about a plethora of personal feelings, opinions, and such, but I do my best to keep the details of my life to myself and those who actually happen to be a part of my personal life. That said, this post would not be possible if it weren't for the beauty of a wonderful woman I had the good fortune to "meet" a few weeks ago. And that wouldn't have been possible if my awesome boyfriend hadn't felt compelled to share my blog with some friends of his. He knows who he is and knows how grateful I am, but nonetheless, I feel it's an important factor of my excitement in sharing this post with you.

After he posted a link on a social media site, I was completely stunned and humbled to receive a remarkably thoughtful and heartfelt email from his lovely friend, Ulrike. She and I have both heard a lot about each other, but as Ulrike lives in Germany, we haven't had the opportunity to meet. You can imagine my astonishment that not only did someone I have never met (from overseas, no less) want to follow and support my little blog, but has since been so touched by it that she has already sent me some fantastic contributions that I can't wait to share with you. This is wonderful in and of itself, but to me, this is EXACTLY what I hoped to accomplish when I initially started this project several years ago. I wanted to get people talking. I wanted to reach people. And to be able to inspire even one person through my writing is more than I could ask for. I'll sound like a humbled and grateful broken record soon, but even that seems an understatement when I think of what this means to me.

With all that in mind, I'm super excited to share this first contribution from Ulrike. The image above was part of an ad from her local family department store. But what makes this ad so unique is that the "models" pictured are not really models. They are, in fact, actual employees of that very department store! Yes, they had stylists and make-up artists and are looking their best, but they are REAL people. Not these overly photo shopped (and who knows what else!) "ideals" that we see plastered everywhere else. I believe there were still actual models in part of the ad as well, but even so, this is a very positive and realistic step forward. I often get so fueled by my anger over what torment this age of "perfection" has caused me personally that I see possible change as all or nothing. I often feel hopeless,helpless, and doomed to a life where I will never be comfortable in my own skin. I only see the negative. What Ulrike's contribution helped me to realize is that instead of focusing on all the negativity that I can't change, maybe I should pay more attention to the positive aspects that I can share with you and put into play in my own life. The old adage "Rome wasn't built in a day..." has stuck around for a reason, and while you and I can't change society, we CAN change (with patience and practice) how we let it affect us. And just think of what can be put in motion when just a small group of real people learn to defy the odds and truly embrace the REAL, BEAUTIFUL people that we are. 

It's not going to be easy for me. Not at all. But I look at how a few emails and blog posts have mutually inspired two women in a matter of weeks, and I feel hope. I hope I can hold onto that more and more in the coming days, and I hope you can too. Take a deep breath, and savor that beautiful fresh air it brings....

LOST AND FOUND

  
  "Get over your hill and see what you find there, with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair."   - After the Storm by Mumford & Sons


I mentioned in my initial “comeback” post,that it was others’ feedback that ultimately convinced me to give this blog another go, but I failed to mention that that same feedback also led to my own revisiting of previous posts,taking the time to reread what had been shared. My all too frequent tendency to criticize my work after the fact – as many of you fellow creative souls out there know all too well – admittedly led to an almost involuntary mental note of everything I disliked about my own writing,everything I “should have” written instead. But the interesting thing was that that persona of critic in overdrive started to lose its power as I began to really hear, really take in, what so many of my friends and acquaintances had been honest and brave enough to say out loud. To be perfectly frank, it was a very moving experience for me. I initially began this project in the hopes of trying to help a few people who had perhaps endured the same battling of oneself as I did.  Yet several years later,here I was, at the true rock-bottom of my life thus far, and they were helping me . Though laden with emotionalism and inner turmoil,there was no denying that it felt extraordinary.

As I read, I became aware of some similar themes among those interviewed. One in particular hit me in a way that rivaled a reaction to any great literary or cinematic reveal that seems to stir every cell in my body when I finally “get” it.  Each person had, in their own way, expressed the belief that beauty is truth. Beauty is truth. I repeated this to myself over and over again,not understanding why that simple statement would elicit such deep thought. It had taken hold of my mind, stirred something deep down inside, and was not about to let go simply because I acknowledged its presence. I had to face it head on. And then, just like that,there it was -the big reveal. The orchestral accompaniment of my imagination swelled, the goose bumps covered my arms, the tears began to sting my eyes, and I realized what it meant to me, what that simple phrase was so blatantly teaching me.

Over the past year and a half I have lost so much - seemingly everything that I had come to know as my life. One thing after another; It seemed endless. If you have been through any type of health difficulty– whether chronic or acute – you surely understand the devastation that can stem from the simple fact that your body can no longer function properly. Everyone’s struggle is personal and unique, and I certainly don’t want to compare wounds or measure anyone’s pain against my own. But change can be very difficult, and when that change is so painful and out of one’s control, I can’t help but imagine that feelings similar to my own would arise. The more I lost, the more the effect on my emotional life and self-worth became indescribably unbearable. Being unable to spend quality time with family or simply have fun – real fun - with friends, losing the ability to work and support myself, being unable to live in the space I called my own, having to fully rely on others because I literally couldn’t do much on my own– how could I help but feel I was losing myself?  It must sound fairly simple, as in, “of course  that would happen, Sara!”, but having deemed myself a strong,independent young woman,courageously following the lifestyle of a weeble*- metaphorically speaking - this realization was earth shattering.  (* in case you’re wondering, “weebles wobble, but they don’t fall down”) The self proclaimed tough cookie had crumbled, and there was nothing I could do about it. I had not only lost seemingly everything - most of all, I lost that unique person, the real me that I had finally allowed myself to become after so many years of struggling .  So that’s health, job, apartment, presumed friends, the amazing city I had called home for over 9 years - gone. And that’s just scratching the surface. To share any more specific details about it in this format would, I feel, be an injustice to its significance and unfair to myself, given how very personal and sensitive an issue it is to find yourself questioning your identity and worth as a person. But the lesson is not in the details, it’s in that simple phrase that I couldn’t shake.

I assumed that my self-worth had sunk to uncharted depths due to the continuous cycle of trying and failing – to be healthy, content, just plain okay. I felt forced to resign myself to survival mode. The road ahead seemed never ending,every minute that passed, another piece of me going with it. I was nothing more than a defective body, a shell of what used to be. Nothing, where a vibrant, passionate, heart, mind,and whole person used to reside. At least that’s what I believed. But as a seeker of truth, how was I so blindly accepting this as fact? Where was I getting all the evidence to prove my theory?  It wasn’t until that moment of hitting the bottom - when I knew I had lost what I thought was just about everything I had to lose - that I finally came to see the truth. The truth that I didn’t realize I had stopped seeking long ago. I thought I had lost myself because I didn’t have the same outward identity I once did;on the exterior I wasn’t the same. But the only real failures with regard to being myself came from seeking what wasn’t true and trying to become what I am not. I had stopped trying to get myself back, instead trying desperately to measure up to some imaginary idea of perfection that seemed to belong to everyone but me. The more I lost,the more “beautiful” every other young female looked to me. I ached for every absurd societal standard of what makes a person “ pretty”,intelligent, interesting, unique - even lovable, and I never once questioned my allowance of that longing to hurt me so. The more I hurt, the more I lost, and the more I lost, the more value I placed on those things I wasn’t.  Sadly, I never once bothered to take a look at who I was. Oh, I heard those around me who claimed to see me despite the hell surrounding me, but even turning to trusted friends faded until seeking only those who hadn’t learned the beauty and worth of what is real became the norm. I looked to those who could confirm that I was worthless. I can’t pinpoint what led me back to the truth in exactness, but I have felt it. The grieving, the pain, the loss – it’s still there too. But for the first time in a very long time, so am I. Me. Sara.

I can’t tell you how often I feel as if I’ve been dropped headfirst into a whirlpool , struggling to keep my head above the water all by myself. But it’s me flailing about and barely treading water. And I am being completely, 100% honest when I say that realization feels incredible. I’ve also come to realize another truth by seeking just that ; I am not nearly as alone as I thought. Once I caught a glimpse of the real me, those fellow truth seekers who really valued that person, were right by my side, filled with joy at the sight of someone they hadn’t seen in quite some time. As I set off on my last trip to the city to pack up my “life” and say goodbye, I was panicked, terrified of losing what I had only just begun to rediscover. But something really fascinating occurred in its place. Because I knew who I was – in spite of my ever ready doubts and insecurities – all that I had longed for, all those absurd ideals and standards I had used as fuel for my self-loathing fire, no longer seemed desirable to me. Was Brooklyn still full of extremely attractive young people in ultra hip clothing? You bet. Were there perfectly healthy,successful people all over the city having extravagant nights out with their “friends” ? Absolutely. Did it change the value of knowing who I am? Astonishingly – no. At least not when I remembered what was true. I honestly couldn’t describe one other person that passed me on the street or in the local coffee shops, aside from those who, like me, sought what is real,and found it to be beautiful. And for that week, it was.

Since then it has been immensely difficult to keep that feeling ,as I’m still in the depths of dealing with all that loss, and the struggle to find what is essentially a new life in many aspects. But through it all - every tear, every sleepless night, every time it feels like I’ll never truly get there- I’m grateful. I‘m grateful because in losing everything, I found myself.  It may take excruciating effort to notice at first, and it may take quite some time for the dust to settle enough to see it even half clearly, but I can say without giving it a second thought, that I can look at what has happened to me and find so much that is extraordinarily beautiful - because it’s rooted in truth.

Many friends will likely recognize the photo below from my former “existence” on Facebook, and though I’ve received kindhearted compliments on its” beauty” since posting it, I don’t know that I’ve shared the story behind it with many people. That photo was taken on the single most disgustingly hot and humid night I have ever experienced - hands down. I had worked all day, staggered through the barely breathable air of my easily 110 degree Fahrenheit subway route, gone all the way home to go to the trouble of putting on a dress, and was now just trying to look “pretty” while my legs were nearly glued together with sweat. Being on the Brooklyn Bridge that night felt admittedly magical on a certain level , but truth be told, I was feeling pretty miserable and in desperate need of some AC.  Bet you couldn’t tell, could you? Never would’ve guessed by appearance alone, huh?  Want to know why? Because in that moment, that exact moment, I was very much me. The way I was dressed, the way I studied the stunning architectural structure with earnest awe, the wistful places that simply looking up led my imagination to wander through – that was all truth. There absolutely is beauty in truth, no matter how bad things may seem. With that in mind and heart, I’m looking forward to all that beauty that is yet to be found. And I definitely plan to wear a flower in my hair very soon.