June 13, 2011 · 8:55 am

Small “b” Bravery: Have You Got it?

The word bravery conjures up images of capes, tights, and super heroes whose parts—muscles or mammaries—rival overinflated balloons.  It is typically used to describe remarkable acts and heroic feats, particularly those which relate to physical strength or military might.

As a result, bravery seems largely inaccessible—a virtue reserved for the average person presented with unthinkable circumstances, such as hurricane Katrina, or to heroes whose stories—real or fabricated—seem remote or even irrelevant to our daily lives.  Because really, when was the last time you needed to escape from a marauding band of warriors?  Or to settle a dispute with your neighbor while wearing chain mail?

Even though hand-to-hand combat seems more barbaric than laudable in these modern, technologically saturated times, life regularly calls for ordinary bravery—the kind of gritty chutzpah or pluck required to survive the quotidian.

Bravery of this flavor is subtle and understated; it is a deep pulse that carries us onward and steadies us as we face life’s less dramatic waves.  Woven into the concepts of flexibility and perseverance, this small “b” bravery helps us befriend the notion that change comes not through grand gestures or sweeping declarations, but through slow and deliberate practice.

Sometimes we confuse bravery with stoicism; we tell ourselves to buck up or snap out of it because we believe this is the strong thing to do—the thing that will reinstate a sense of control or make us feel powerful.  And yet denying our experience doesn’t take much bravery; it’s actually quite easy to press fast-forward and hide from ourselves or the reality of life.

The more courageous route would be to acknowledge the feelings or thoughts, even those that are unpleasant or so-called negative, and to examine them a bit.  Do they nest in our stomach or our shoulders?  What do they tell us?  And how can we learn from them?

Bravery may be a cake walk when others are watching; we can easily fulfill public promises and do ourselves proud.  But when we are only in the company of ourselves, when we occupy a single bed or a table for one, does our mettle begin to melt?  Do we find it hard to follow through on our intention to take better care of our bodies, or to turn off the ever-buzzing media so that we come to know the landscape of our own vantage point?  Are we able to confront a history that we’d just as soon forget, or to shun a cultural imperative that is clearly detrimental to our lives?

Unlike its swashbuckling, big “B” cousin, psychological bravery can slip by unnoticed and unappreciated; it doesn’t make headlines or win us any awards.  But there’s something precious about this dark horse of a quality, because it tethers us to meaning, purpose and dignity—to the most essential parts of who we are.

And it doesn’t call for chain mail.  Which is a win in my book.

***************************************************************

What does bravery mean to you?  And when have you been most brave?

****************************************************************

This post is part of the Self Discovery, Word by Word series.  Interested in participating?  Click here to find out how.

 

 

 

Photo credits:  1. Rainy Monday; 2.  dank1012, both via Flickr’s Creative Commons License.

7 Comments

Filed under Being Authentic, Dieting, Eating Disorders, Exercise, Self Care, Uncategorized

Tagged as , , , , , ,

June 3, 2011 · 9:04 am

Ordinary Bravery: Self Discovery, Word by Word

Some of you may remember the Self Discovery Word by Word series–brain child of Dr. Ashley Solomon at Nourishing the Soul—from my post on change a couple months back.  Well, this month I have the honor of hosting this ongoing series, and the word I’ve chosen to focus on is bravery.  Although I’ve written about this word before, particularly in reference to the process of aging, I wanted to examine it again—to let it bounce around my brain so that I could observe its path and study its associations.  Because when you think about it, life requires a good deal of bravery, and it’s likely we rise to the occasion on a regular basis, whether or not we know it.

The purpose of Ashley’s SDWW series is to encourage the blogging community to engage in self-reflection as it unites and huddles around a particular word.  You can learn more about the series here.  And if you’d like to participate this month—and yes, of course you should!–here is what you can do:

  1. Write a post on your blog about the word bravery.
  2. Include the SDWW icon in your post, so that you can identify yourself as a participant, and so that we can find each other in the great big web!
  3. To ensure that I know about your post, email or tweet me the link. Or, you can post it on the Body and the Brood Facebook page.  But however you do it, be sure you notify me by Friday, June 17th (can you believe it’s already June?).  I’ll link to all of your posts on Tuesday, June 21.
Confused?  Want help?  Just email me!  And check back soon for my own post on the topic of bravery, too.  Happy writing!

21 Comments

Filed under Being Authentic, Self Care, Uncategorized

Tagged as , , , , ,

May 17, 2011 · 5:46 am

Should We Be at War with Obesity?

A recent study by researchers at Yale’s Rudd Center for Food Policy and Obesity suggests that news outlets frequently utilize images which portray obese individuals in a stigmatizing manner–unprofessionally dressed, at unflattering angels, or eating junk food.

File this one under “Duh.”

Though unsurprising, axiomatic studies like this one serve an important purpose: They speak to our culture’s profound fear of obesity, and they remind us that we might rightly be shocked by such degrading and dehumanizing depictions.  As it is, a large number of us will fail to see the prejudice and hatred which fuel the use of these images, because we’ve come to see obese individuals as “symbols of an epidemic rather than valued members of society,” explains Rebecca Puhl, one of the study’s authors.

What if overweight individuals were photographed in a positive way like this?

Our unchecked loathing of obesity can be found lurking in ostensibly benign places, such as conversations about health, wellness, and fitness.  Yes, it sounds like we’re talking about biology—such as the number on the scale or how we fare on measures of cardiovascular fitness.  But underneath our words are fierce currents of hatred and shame, because being fat conjures up an entire debate about morality and personal responsibility; science is not easily divorced from the cultural deification of thinness.

To be fair, the rise in childhood obesity and its associated sequalae, such as diabetes, is rightly concerning.  But what we’re learning is that shame-based tactics don’t contribute to the reduction of weight, on a personal or aggregate level.  Another study by the same authors at Yale, including principle investigator Rebecca Puhl, found that individuals who internalize the stigma of being overweight are less likely to lose weight.  As she explained in a recent Hartford Courant article by William Weir, “When [people are] stigmatized by their weight, they’re more likely to engage in unhealthy eating.  Stigma is a form of stress and a common coping method is eating food.”

The take-home?  Negative portrayals of obese individuals don’t encourage people to eat healthier and to lose weight.  If anything, such images are more likely to reduce the self-esteem of obese individuals, which then creates a disincentive to engage in self-care and, in particular, healthy eating.

All this calls into question a recent initiative by the San Antonio school board to photograph the lunch trays of school children before and after they’ve eaten.  The aim, which sounds laudable enough, is to reduce obesity and to improve dietary habits.

Yet such an approach doesn’t empower children to make healthy choices when it comes to food.  Rather, it relies upon the fear of being found out—of knowing that your dietary peccadilloes will be recorded by a camera and then communicated to your parents.  As if the cafeteria weren’t challenging enough already–with its nuanced social interactions related to where and with whom you sit, and peer-to-peer evaluation of the contents of your tray, now mom and dad—and the school board!—have a surrogate set of eyes in the lunch room.  What pressure!  What shame!

It’s hard to identify a front on which we are winning the war on obesity.  And it certainly feels as though we are engaged in a war; just ask Michelle Obama, who has catapulted obesity from mere enemy of the people, to enemy of the state.

Perhaps it is because we have drawn upon military analogies and strategies that we have failed so miserably.  When we choose to attack obesity, we are really declaring war upon ourselves:  our genetics, our predilection to eat more than we physically need, our emotional hunger (which is often mistaken for physical hunger), and the very real human tendency to struggle with moderation on a variety of fronts.

And then there are the variables frequently neglected in the discussion of obesity and weight, those like ethnicity, religion, and gender.  It’s unclear how we can win a war on obesity if doing so means asking people to relinquish an essential part of their cultural, religious or regional identity—a part that involves eating foods which may be low in nutritional value but nonetheless steeped in tradition and ritual.  Any attempt to eradicate obesity must necessarily consider the very real issue of socioeconomic status and class affiliation, as well.

We might consider abandoning our military strategy—and the underlying prejudice regarding weight—in favor of the Health at Every Size (HAES) approach.  HAES democratizes the concept of health, and purports that it is available to all.  It is a philosophy based more on acceptance, and working within existing parameters, than on pushing untenable weight loss efforts (which usually fail, anyway).  Such a shift would encourage us to develop a healthy relationship with all foods—the good and the bad—and with our bodies: one based on self-care and thoughtfulness, rather than fear of being watched, photographed, or teased.

Sadly, the war on obesity has become the war on the obese.  Our culture’s articulated and tacit fear of fat often drives health initiatives regarding weight loss, which likely reduces the impact of such efforts and marginalizes an increasing number of Americans.

Surely, we can do better, on metrics of equality and simple kindness, as well as health.

*************************************************************

Do you think the war on obesity has gone too far, in that it targets people, rather than the problem itself?  And should we be more accepting of a diversity of sizes?

*************************************************************

Photo by lululemon athletica via Flickr’s Creative Commons.


18 Comments

Filed under Body Image, Body Love, Dieting, Eating Disorders, Media, Uncategorized

Tagged as , , , , , , ,

April 21, 2011 · 8:00 pm

On Any Given Day: Blood, a Breakout, and a Coyote

Ask!  Ask, already!  I want to say.  I’ll tell you the story–just stop staring.

It was just a fall; there were no unspeakable acts, only common violence that comes from loose legs, unhinged in the late afternoon chaos of missed naps.  There was ordinary running.  Gravel underfoot and pavement under that; skin abraded by rocks and hardness that should never meet puffy flesh of the three year-old variety.  Somersault and fear:  an eye that turned crimson then violet with shadows grey and yellow.

That was afternoon, as evening crept in.

But first there was the mid-day escape.

15 months of life and nothing if not fast:  She made it all the way to the sidewalk before I, like a crazed mama bird, snatched her up in flailing arms made brawny by desperation.

There were no bruises or scrapes, nothing to be encoded by the tips of my fingers.  Such proof is unnecessary when images of feet scampering and cars hurling impress themselves upon brain like cuneiform.

It is enough to have seen; the inevitable What if? begins its cognitive orbit–circling, circling, circling—cutting a trench through grey matter.

It was Tuesday, a detail which will quietly disentangle itself from the memory of blood and shallow breath.  Spared a different ending, there will be no date attached, only a sense that it was around the time that the coyote sauntered, in a most entitled way, in front of my car on that busy, busy street.

It will fade into the tapestry of days, unremarkable and lucky.

****************************************************************************************************

Wondering if you’re at the wrong place?  No, it’s still me at Body and Brood, just taking advantage of the fact that I’m the head writer (ahem, I mean only writer), as well as creative director and CEO of this shindig.  Which means I can write in whatever whacked-out style I choose.  Blame it on all the poetry I’ve been reading, since it is that month and all.  

17 Comments

Filed under Motherhood, Navel Gazing (or More About Me), Parenting, Uncategorized

April 15, 2011 · 7:03 am

Media Literacy: You Are Not a Butcher (Change Your Thoughts, Not Your Thighs!)

Welcome to my weekly series, “Change Your Thoughts, Not Your Thighs!”  Read on for tips about how to transform body image without changing your size or shape.  And check back every Friday for more ideas.  Or, better yet, subscribe by email or RSS, so that you get body-loving goodness delivered right to you!

****************************************************************************************************

If you’re struggling with body image, it’s likely that you have something in common with the local butcher.  You probably see the world much like he does, by evaluating legs and thighs, breasts and backs, to determine the fat to muscle ratio and to decide which parts measure up, as well as which parts fail.  But unlike the butcher, who performs such assessment only on expired animals waiting to be cleaved, you are doing it to your own body–to your physical home.

When we consider the images surrounding us, it’s not surprising that so many of us think this way; pictures of faceless women depicted only by their parts—parts we’re supposed to covet, or parts we’re supposed to loathe–are ubiquitous.   Trim thighs, dimpled thighs, muscled stomachs, muffin tops—we see the gamut.

For some with acute body image concerns, the only answer is to severely limit media exposure–to cancel subscriptions to fashion and tabloid magazines and cut out most commercial television and cinema.  But given the scope of advertising and the fact that we can be reached nearly anywhere, this solution is somewhat short-sighted.

Just last weekend, I was confronted by a plastic surgeon’s advertisement in the restroom of a restaurant where I ate dinner.  “Feeling a little fugly?” * asked text superimposed onto predictable photos of a (headless) body, ample “before” and much reduced “after.”  I was horrified by this mean-spirited ad, which glared at me from beneath a protective plexiglass cover on the wall.  How many women had lost their appetite after seeing it, and returned to the table reeling in shame?  How many left the bathroom feeling they were no longer entitled to eat that chocolate cake they’d just ordered?

Since we cannot entirely avoid the far-reaching arm of the media, we need a way to deal with it, to defuse its messages so that they lose their power.  One way to do this is to concentrate on the market forces that underlie these images–the fact that money is the primary driver–and to acknowledge that advertising is ultimately about increasing profits through manipulation and pressure.  When we hate our bodies, we are playing right into the hands of money-grubbing industries which both fuel our negative thoughts and then profit immensely from them.  Advertising works because we forget this, or we trick ourselves into believing that we aren’t susceptible to its powerful sway.  News flash:  We are.  How else do you think that legions of people came up with the idea that thin is hot and fat is not?

Second, we need to hone our skills in media literacy so that we understand what—besides that little floral dress or tub of wrinkle cream—is really being hocked.  Typically, ads hope to convince us that we’ll be getting not just the product we purchase, but a set of accompanying intangibles: love, eternal youth, freedom from anxiety or depression, success, happiness, an elevation in social status, and the envy of our peers.  So how could you say no to that bottle of shampoo, when it comes with all that!

Beautiful friends and a boat--yours with the purchase of Tommy Hilfiger!

Another technique involves assessing our reaction to the images we encounter.  It can be incredibly liberating to look at an ad and say, “Is my skin really so awful that I need to buy that high-dollar cream, or is this slick ad working its magic on me?  Would I find those hard-earned lines around my eyes so problematic if I weren’t staring at her airbrushed, impossibly pore-less face?”

Sometimes we buy women’s magazines because it’s fun to look through them—to see clothes that are more fantastic than pragmatic, and to witness the theatrics of fashion.  Or we adore the nuggets of compelling content interspersed in the sea of ads.

If we have fairly good body image, such exposure can be harmless, particularly if we remind ourselves that the images we witness are only weakly tied to reality.  But if we find ourselves experiencing the dark and detrimental effects of advertising, then it’s time to step back and take stock of our media consumption.  Are we overdoing it?  Do we need to spend less time flipping through glossy magazines, and more time interacting with the very real—and varied—women who surround us?  Has our focus on “problem areas” distracted us from the fact that, unlike chickens, our value doesn’t derive from the size of our breasts?

Because unless you’re making sausage, there’s no need to think like a butcher.  And that blood-stained apron is so last year.

***********************************************************************************************

How are you affected by the use of body parts in advertising?  And do you try to limit your exposure to the media?

***********************************************************************************************

Most of you have likely seen this, but if not, here is Dove’s powerful (and quick) demonstration of what it takes to go from au naturel to camera-ready.  (With a little help from the trusty computer, of course, just to ensure that our standards are truly unrealistic.)

* In case you are over the age of 14, or otherwise totally uncool, fugly is a combination of the f-word and ugly.  Charming, I know.

Photo Credits 1. sheffieldhammer via Flickr’s Creative Commons License; 2. source.

6 Comments

Filed under Body Image, Body Love, Change Your Thoughts Not Your Thighs (Tip of the Week), Dieting, Eating Disorders, Media

Tagged as , , , , ,

April 11, 2011 · 8:44 pm

Making Friends with the Rooster and Tolerating Change: Self-Discovery, Word by Word

Last fall, the creative and ever-inspiring Ashley of Nourishing the Soul came up with the fantabulous idea that bloggers focus on one word per month, and write about it as a way to engage in self-discovery and growth.  The series has now been hosted by many talented and thoughtful folks, and this month’s host is no exception: Mara of Medicinal Marzipan.  Mara chose the word change, which for many of us conjures up images of the mundane–changing our underwear–as well as the harrowing–having to ditch those old, self-defeating patterns in order to make life better.  Here are my musings on the word.  And if you’d like to participate by writing your own piece, whether you have a blog or not, please visit Mara’s website for information on how to do so!

*****************************************************************************************************

With spring come tumultuous shifts in a terrain that we’d nearly forgotten during its long, white slumber.  But now we notice:  Dark sky gathers rain, then heaves its offering in drizzle and downpour.  Leaves unfurl, infinitely greener than our memories would attest, and the stark, bare bones of trees lose their distinction, obscured by a fuzzy web of growth.

Though we haven’t seen it, the earth’s flora has been hard at work all winter, preparing for the catwalk of spring when every variety of beauty trumpets itself in showy color and delicate bloom.

For the earth, it looks easy, this inevitable parade of change.  There is no choice, no decision to be made.

But for those of us who walk around the planet on two legs, things are different.   Many of us scratch and claw to hold on to what is, fearing that, if we peel away our fingers and release our white-knuckle grip, we will freefall into terrifying uncertainty.  Change can be unbearable.

For the most part, it’s a fantasy, this whole notion that change is within our control.  We can no more prevent change than we can prevent our toe nails from growing.  And if we think we have constancy, it’s largely a delusion.  Certainly there are periods of life in which stability is more abundant—those in which our physical development slows and life assumes a predictable pattern.  But even in when the rhythm is familiar, and things today seem just as they did yesterday, imperceptible change still occurs.  Our bodies age; our minds simultaneously forget and forge new pathways.

I’d describe my own relationship with change as tepid at best.  It’s not that I’m totally averse to it—I replace my toothbrush every few months, and I just cut off the large majority of my hair.  But change isn’t like a Caesar salad or a sale at Anthropologie—something I seek out like a diligent bloodhound.

There are some of changes that I just can’t seem to make, even though doing so would clearly be in my own best interest.  For example, my daughter gets up between 4:45 and 5:15.  Every.  Single.  Day.  This makes me seethe, since the parenting plan that I’d conjured didn’t involve getting up earlier than a rooster.  That I am still stuck in this cycle, month piling on top of month, is baffling and frustrating.  Thoughts like “This can’t be happening!  I can’t believe she’s up so early again!” run laps around my brain.  Which is total nonsense, since of course it’s happening—it happened yesterday and the day before and the day before…

And yet.  I delude myself into thinking that tomorrow will be different, thinking that maybe she’ll sleep just 10 minutes longer, and then 10 minutes longer the next day, until we get to a more reasonable hour.  Like 5:35!  Because I can’t shake the sense that I’m entitled to stay up at night to watch American Idol, to spend time with my husband and to read more than two pages of Mary Karr without drooling on my pillow.

Ideally, we’d probably all like to choose what changes and what stays the same.  I’d vote to nix the telltale signs of aging, like incontinence and bone loss and neck droop.  But I’d support alterations in my wake-up time and welcome growth in the area of compassion—with myself and with others.

Of course it doesn’t work like this.  And our efforts to thwart or slow change can result in some pretty ugly things, like using food or alcohol as a way to cope, or surrounding ourselves with those who support our delusions.  The only real answer is the most obvious one, and that is acceptance—making the radical and wrenching choice to see and acknowledge what is, without having to contort or mold.  For me, this means accepting that reveille, in the form of a toddler’s cry, happens every morning at a near impossible hour.

Acceptance sounds easy.  It is not.  It may feel like surrendering, when we are not wholly ready to give up the good fight.  Frequently, I bear my teeth and snarl at life’s reminders that I’m not in charge, that the parade marches on, whether or not I’m on the float.  But living in a fantasy world can only lead to one thing: a rude awakening.  And I know all about that.

*****************************************************************************************************

How about you?  Are you able to welcome change or do you hide under the covers?  Any tricks or suggestions for letting go and accepting what is?

P.S. Several people have told me that they are unable to leave comments on this post.  If you try to comment and have the same experience, please email me at dana @ drudallweiner dot com.

5 Comments

Filed under Motherhood, Navel Gazing (or More About Me), Parenting, Self Care, Uncategorized

Tagged as , , , , ,

April 7, 2011 · 12:59 pm

I’m a hip mama. Or at least I’m on hipmama.com.

It’s been a busy week in these parts.  Little sleep (for me) and lots of crying (for the under-4 set).

I’ll be back next week with another tip in my ongoing “Change Your Thoughts, Not Your Thighs!” series.  But in the meantime, have a look at my new article called “On Character, Cleavage, and Being Cool” on hipmama.com.  It’s about whether Katy Perry has mind-blowing sex, the relationship between Ernie and Bert, and raising resilient daughters.  (And you thought those things weren’t related!)  If you’re not familiar with hipmama, take a look around the site.  It bills itself as “an independent online magazine bursting with political commentary and ribald tales from the front lines of motherhood“ and is the brainchild of visionaries Ariel Gore and Bee Lavander.  I am truly honored to be in such fantastic company.

Ciao for now–see you around the blogosphere, or right here next week!

1 Comment

Filed under Girls, Media, Motherhood, Navel Gazing (or More About Me), Parenting, Sexuality, Uncategorized

Tagged as , , ,