learning to love

Ten years into learning to love

my body someone asked,

What don't you like?

What don't you like
about your body?

My mind traced the curves I know
from lotion slathered on, slowly,
and looking into mirrors until
I saw beauty. Nothing there in the
curves and sags not to love.

I once fell backwards
into a bank of snow with a laugh.
cheeks flushed from two hours
of clearing fluffy white from sidewalks.
Heart and arms strong for the task.

When I run, I feel like I"m gliding -
my feet above the track my body soars,
less swiftly than it feels for sure,
but I soar on these  legs that resemble trunks
with their muscles toned from years of carrying this
well curved body of mine across the face of the earth

My eyes have earned me long gazes
from admirers who could not seem to pull
their eyes away from mine. They are my vain pride,
but I allow them that for they are the part of me
I've never hated.

Genetics, a propensity to have my nose
buried in a book or a computer screen.
My eyes need help. Fifteen years of contacts.
They beg for a break. The budget agrees.
I switch to glasses.The cheap kind.

I perch them atop my nose and cringe
a little at their prominence with their dark
black frames and the way they seem to cast
shadows over and into  my eyes.

And here I must learn to love my eyes
as they are - deep blue (but sometimes green),
flawed and imperfect like the rest of me.
I have spent a decade learning to listen to my body
and to give her what she needs.

So, here too, I listen to the cherished
voice of my body, I listen to the voice that says
she's more, that her flaws do not deem her
unworthy, that there is something to still
to love in these eyes that see this world.

Paper Christmas tree

I don't have a Christmas tree currently (and no real reason to get one), but I wanted a little holdiay decor.  I was also cleaning out things under my bed and ran across my scrapbook paper stash and thought of this idea. I didn't need to buy anything new to make this, so that's my kind of budget friendly decor!*

I used a 2" circle punch to punch out hundreds of circles out of green (or mostly green) paper.

Then I drew a Christmas tree (just a tall triangle) on some brown shipping paper and it was time to glue! I recommend a fun Christmas movie to watch while you work.

I did the outline first and then went back and filled in. You want to start from the bottom and work your way up - just put a dab of glue on the top of the circle so that the bottom and sides can curl up later. 

A glue gun makes this pretty fast. I'm sure I would've been highly annoyed if I was fiddling with a glue stick or some other kind of messier/longer drying/harder to get out glue.

glue. glue. glue. I didn't make a pattern with the different papers, just random.

At the top I used a 2" scalloped circle punch and some gold glitter paper for the star.

Then I trimmed the excess brown paper off from the sides of the tree and, voila! Tree! I took a look at it and filled in any bare spots with extra circles. I very slightly curled up the bottoms of the circles to give it a more dimensional look. 

I hung it on the wall with a few command poster strips. (It's heavy!)

And then the "trunk" is one of the scrap sides of the brown shipping paper I trimmed off earlier rolled up into a very narrow tree trunk. 

Added a little elf climbing the tree - and, It's Christmas in this house!

Some of the paper has shiny/metallic parts on it or glitter - and it really does catch the light to give that illusion of a light when you walk by it.

Bonus? I can roll it up and keep it and use it another season. :) 

* If you don't have a circle punch - you'll probably want to buy or borrow that in order to make this (though you could cut a few hundred circles by hand . . ). Alternatively, I bet triangles (or squares/diamonds) would also look cool and be easier to cut without having to buy a punch.  If you don't have the brown paper - use any kind of sturdy wrapping paper you have - or piece together pieces of other paper.  You may see a little of whatever the paper is on the finished product depending on how much overlap you have - so just keep that in mind. :)

Knowing People

The theme of my brain the past few months seems to be all about "relationships."

As I become more and more convinced that "living in peace" is of utmost importance I ask, "How do you do that? How do you make it matter? How does peace work on a national, global scale?"  As I read the stories of other people who have sought to live in peace and make peace the way of life in their neighborhoods and countries and world, the recurring theme is relationships. You listen to others. You sit down at dinner with people. You do this especially with people who have different perspectives, backgrounds, etc from you.

It's fascinating and infuriating.

This is so small, so simple, so slow.

But it seems to work, it seems to matter.

Somehow you get to know your neighbors and it makes you care about neighbors across political and geographical borders. Somehow when you understand what it is to be poor or sick or alone or foreign or scared through the eyes of someone with whom you have shared a meal, then you empathize with the poor and sick and alone and foreign and scared that you don't know or see. And you know it's not a simple solution. You know that there's not one answer, a magic wand, that is going to solve the deep and divisive problems in our world.

In her memoir Mighty Be Our Powers, Nobel Peace Prize recipient Leymah Gbowee reminds us that "Organizations like the UN do a lot of good, but there are certain basic realities they never seem to grasp. One is that every war is different . . . because the reasons and the ways countries fight have everything to do with their histories and the way their societies are organized. If conflicts aren't identical, resolution can never be one-size-fits-all." (170)   Lessons she learned while advocating peace to end the Liberian war (which worked) can be used and applied to conflicts in other countries and at other times, but she understands that without actually knowing the people, without having relationships, one cannot effectively work for peace.

So I am trying to "live into" this this fall, to make decisions based on relationships. To build relationships so that I build community, and hope that community builds peace.

A couple of days ago, I was at the grocery store, getting my coffee creamer and almond milk when I saw a man in a motorized wheelchair a few feet down from me. He had parked in front of the glass-doored case and was making an effort to begin the process of getting milk. Far enough way to open the door, close enough to still be able to reach. I'm sure it's a science he has practiced frequently. I stood there for a brief moment, not wanting to take away his "agency" - not wanting to offer aid if it was going to just be a reminder to him of how many "simple" things he could not easily do for himself. I didn't want to offer to help if I was just going to be one more person making uninformed assumptions about his abilities and independence based on the fact that he moved around while sitting in a chair.

But in the brief seconds that I contemplated whether to offer help or not my brain said, "Relationships. Think. Use who you know."  So I thought of my mother, who has limited physical mobility at times and who has made use of her share of motorized carts. I glanced at the man's face, his body language, and I knew what to do.

I didn't know this man, had no relationships with him, but I know my mother and her body language when she needs help or when she doesn't. And so when I asked, "Can I grab something for you?"  I was not surprised when he gave a relieved sigh, sat back in his chair a bit, and said, "Yes. That one there on the top. Thank you."

Quotations, Photos, and Musings

It's been a while since I've done a "what I've been into" post and I'm horrible at keeping up with these things month by month and can never be consistent with the categories. So, this is a "here's a few things from my life" post. Much of it will be October. But September will sneak in.

Some recipes:

Slow Cooker Squash Stew  (This one got an, "Oh, ok, that's good." out of my roommates who wishes I made more fried chicken and less veggies. So I call it a win :)  It was also great reheated later.)

Vegan Brownie Pumpkin Pie:   (SO GOOD. Took it to a pot luck. Attempted a whipped maple-coconut cream, it was more maple-coconut sauce, but a great addition. Pretty easy recipe, though lots of dirty dishes.)

Actually,  "Oh She Glows" has become my favorite place for yummy vegan recipes. There's a sweet potato-oatmeal breakfast casserole sitting half-made in the fridge right now. I'll get it finished up and taken to class in the morning.

Some quotations:

Dorothy Day insisted on "not serving soup one day and war the next. We were to live without killing, no matter what the provocation or consequence, no matter how many other Christians or Christian bishops were fighting wars or blessing them." Jim Forest, "Remembering Dorothy Day" in Peace is the Way: Writings on Nonviolence from the Fellowship of Reconciliation, Ed. Walter Wink

"The seminaries did not teach me. I had to discover it by myself. They did not teach me that it is more interesting to know a Hindu than to know Hinduism; it is more rewarding to know a Buddhist than Buddhism, a Marxist than Marxism, a revolutionary than revolution, a missionary than missiology, wife than the "marriage and the family" course, Jesus Christ than christology." Kosuke Koyama Water Buffalo Theology, 150.

"The ways in which Western culture encourages the anxious conscience to patrol the flesh, which tears, tears up, trembles, tables, and tires, might lead in one instance to those social technologies of food disorders and surgical enhancements, readily fit to the female form. In another instance, it creates an economic and cultural structure of exclusion. . categorically multiplying abject and economically "waste/d" bodies." - Sharon V. Betcher, "Becoming Flesh of My Flesh," Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion

"True pacifism is not unrealistic submission to evil power.. It is rather a courageous confrontation of evil by the power of love, in the faith that it is better to be the recipient of violence than the inflicter of it, since the latter only multiplied the existence of violence and the bitterness in the universe, while the former may . . . bring about a transformation and change of heart." - MLK Jr.

Some photos:

Went to New Orleans in September.  Enjoying a beignet and cafe au lait at Cafe du Monde.  Loved this city. 

Got a haircut. Fuzzy photo, but I LOVE the cut.  Although, people have told me it makes me look younger,
which makes me realize I've crossed that age threshold where "you look younger" is now a compliment. 

Went thrifting with my roommates. One of them found me this pin that says "How dare you presume I'd rather be thin?"
Best thrift find ever? yup.

Went apple picking and hay-riding with friends. I am a butternut-squash lover, so this was kind of awesome.

Some cryptic musings:

A number of years ago someone asked me, "What's your passion?" and I had no idea how to answer. Sure, I was interested in things. But, passionate?  I was more of an "no highs. no lows" kind of girl. I liked to be calm, plod on, don't make waves. But it bothered me that I didn't know what my passion was and so I kind of said, "Figure that out, Nicole. You should know that." 

I think I've figured it out. There are a few issues where I will dig my heels in and stand up a little taller and talk a little louder and not apologize for my opinions. Not because of stubbornness, but because I have invested time and energy and mental power and relationships and my life into these things and I think they matter, a lot.  

It's anything but calm, but it's fabulous. 

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I will be graduating from grad school soon. It is the most uncertain my future has ever been. I've got some of those gut feelings about where to head, but I don't have any guarantees. In undergrad I knew I was heading to teaching. When I left teaching I knew I was headed to Chicago. When I left Chicago I knew I was headed to grad school. I don't know where I'm going now. But I know my passions, and I can see how those can play out in a hundred ways, so I figure the path that's out there for me has to fall at least close to one of those hundred things, so I'm not too worried. But I still get that little pit of anxiety in my stomach when I think about it, still wonder if all my continent crossing and uprooting and new experiences is going to leave me with wonderful memories but without a real path. 

making the bed: a morning post over coffee

I think I saw it in a movie once. Maybe Corrina, Corrina ?  The lady making the bed grabbed two corners of the bed sheet, raised her arms, flipped her wrists and the sheet went flying high into the air and then on the way down spread flat and slowly floated onto the bed. It was magic and grace and art.

I don't make my bed every morning, sometimes I just pull the rumpled covers up and call it a day, sometimes I don't even bother to do that.  But when I take the time to really make the bed, I love to do it this way, all the covers come off and then I grab two corners of a sheet, raise my arms. flip my wrists, and I find for a few brief seconds I'm mesmerized by the grace and beauty of the sheet falling through the air.

I can remember going into my parents' room as a child and making their bed. I seem to recall that I often decided they needed different blankets and pillows on the bed - choosing from the linen collection based on how the colors and patterns looked together, rearranging pillows just so. I'm not entirely sure how my mom felt about the redecorating eye of a child, but she always said thank you. The girls at my job in Chicago made their own beds for the most part, but occasionally if I had the time on "linen wash day" I would take the clean sheets upstairs and make their beds. I knew that at the end of their long days of school and sports and clubs and homework and chores that a made bed was a small gift, and it's one I loved to offer.

It's a little moment in my morning, one that tugs on the parts of my heart that loves to make things homey, that understands on some deep level just how important making a bed is, I wonder about future beds I will make. Foster children? Guests at an Inn?  Nieces and nephews over for a fun weekend with their favorite aunt? Helping out a neighbor with  limited mobility?

In those seconds as the sheets fly high I see hopes and dreams caught up in that brief billow of air.