More of a woman

A couple of years ago as I was undergoing one of many stints of physical therapy, we were discussing my weak ligaments and theories that estrogen relaxes ligaments, putting women at a higher risk for injury. I mentioned reading about how adipose tissue (i.e. fat) holds estrogen and therefore that might explain why my ligaments are "like rubber," as one chiropractor put it.

Um, yeah, I have a lot of...er...adipose tissue, and so, more estrogen.

The PT aide working with us smiled at me after I referred to my levels of adipose tissue and estrogen. "That just makes you more of a woman," she said.

I think it's fair to say that most women in America are unhappy with their bodies. We are constantly bombarded with images of what is beautiful -- thin, waif-like movie stars and models. Health professionals regularly harangue us about the risks of being overweight. Raise the standards of what a healthy weight is by lowering the amount one can weigh and be healthy.

Like most women, I struggle with "body image issues." I rarely go through a day without thinking about how I wish my waist was smaller, or my butt, or my thighs, or my hips. Trips to a new doctor can be extremely anxious for me. Are they going to belittle me for being overweight? Clothes shopping can be exhausting, because, in addition to having CFIDS/ME, I'm both overweight and short. And even with a boyfriend who frequently tells me how sexy I am, my first instinct when he's groping around my belly is to suck it in.

A few months ago when I was sitting in the waiting room of my doctor, I was skimming through an issue of Scientific America he had sitting there to entertain his patients while they wait for him (usually not too long). One of the stories was about the excavations at Catalhoyuk, a Neolithic town discovered in present day Turkey. Among the pictures littered throughout the article was one of a seated goddess figurine.


Catalhoyuk Goddess Figurine

I gasped. Her body looked like mine. She was fat. Her breasts drooped heavily to the side. Her belly had folds. Her knees disappeared into her thighs and calves.

And she was a goddess.

Someone worshipped.

Someone carved into stone for the ages to see.

The other day during my appointment with the massage therapist -- someone my boyfriend has started calling "the magic lady" because of her varied and unusual therapies -- she did some more tapping and positioning of my fingers to figure out what my body is saying is wrong with it according to the practice of Ontological Kinesiology. Apparently my body is still saying that my "vegetal" aspect, the part that deals with my feelings and emotions, is not working properly. That I lack integrity, not meaning that I'm a dishonest person so much as that I'm not well grounded in myself. In who I am.

A person with excess adipose tissue that holds excess estrogen.

Making me more of a woman.

Little taste of spring

The weather outside feels like April. Except less rain. Go figure. It was bright and sunny today and as my boyfriend and I were both up (he never went to bed, I actually got up early), we decided to go to Multnomah Falls.

Not only was the weather amazing, but I’m feeling really good as well. We took the only Flexcar available at the time, the Honda Element, which is way over on 5th and Harrison – a good 8 blocks or so. When we took this car last month, I had to drag myself through every last block. Today, we detoured through Smith Center to stop at the ATM and when we were stopped at the light waiting to cross the street, I realized that we were almost to the car. Six blocks (snapping my fingers) just like that.

School is in session, so this time as we walked to the car, I could see everyone rushing to class or to the coffee shop. Remembered and longed for that time when I was able to rush to class or hang out with my friends at the Broadway Café instead of shuffle along with a cane in my hand. But then I stopped. Decided that was the past. I’m grateful for that past. For the experiences I had. But I will live in today. Be the person I am at this moment rather than miss the past.

I drove out there, hiked all the way up a little past the Benson bridge and back to the car without even having to sit down (though, I might have sat down had the benches not all been wet). As we passed the sign showing the distance to the top of the falls, I remembered how I once hiked up there as a kid. Had that pang of longing to be able to do that again. And then stopped. Decided I would be grateful for what I had today: more energy than I’ve had in months and months. Enough energy to hike .4 miles.

Then we drove through the old Columbia Highway and stopped up at Crown Point to get the view of the Columbia Gorge. Since it was windy (as it usually is) we only stayed for a couple of minutes and then drove into Troutdale where we went out to breakfast. Since we still had a bit of time left on the Flexcar, we stopped by Limbo (a natural food and produce store) and Trader Joe’s. On the way back we took the car through the car wash and filled up the gas tank since I get money back on my Flexcar bill for doing so.

One of those rare days when I get to join life on the other side of the surface.

Inauguration Day

Hmm...I think that is as big as Hello (the software Blogger uses to allow us to post pics on our blogs) will make this. If you click on it, then click again when your cursor turns into a magnifying glass with a plus sign in it, it should be big enough to actually read.

A friend of mine sent it to me this morning, and it made me laugh. Other than that, as he didn't source it, I have no idea who made it and can't tell you anything else about it.

Transcendent power

Brethren, it is God who said, "Let light
shine out of darkness," who has shone in our
hearts to give the light of the knowledge of
the glory of God in the face of Christ.

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels,
to show that the transcendent power belongs
to God and not to us. We are afflicted in
every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but
not driven to despair; persecuted, but not
forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed;
always carrying in the body the death of
Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be
manifested in our bodies.

(II Corithians 4:6)


This is from my email daily bible reading from the Greek Orthodox archdiocese here in the US and it seemed fitting for this day as we head into four more years of God only knows.

Absence

"From my perspective, this is a dark moment in American history. The Treasury has been raided and the loot is being turned over by the trainload to those who are already the richest citizens in the land. We've launched a hideous war for no good reason in Iraq. And we're about to elevate to the highest law enforcement position in the land a man who helped choreograph the American effort to evade the international prohibitions against torture.

Never since his assassination in 1968 have I felt the absence of Martin Luther King more acutely. Where are today's voices of moral outrage? Where is the leadership willing to stand up and say: Enough! We've sullied ourselves enough."

Bob Herbert in today's New York Times

Nonviolent resistance

"There are two ways I oppose the occupation here. One is that I
study and try to keep learning. The other is through Ibdaa and the activities I do there like the dance troupe. I can't let the
occupation ruin my life."

Nur, 17, Dheisheh refugee camp, West Bank


Ibdaa is an Arabic word meaning to create something out of nothing, and it is the name of the cultural center created at the Dheisheh refugee camp outside of Bethlehem. In July of 2003, I was lucky enough to see their dance troupe perform here at Portland State University. Very talented young people who clearly put a lot of time and energy into their work.

While it is unfortunate that there are Palestinian youths who give up all hope and turn to killing other people along with themselves, the vast majority of them are like Nur. BirZeit University alone has over 5000 students who also resist the occupation through non-violent means by getting an education.

It's nonviolent resistance that I think Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. would heartily approve of.

Life behind the surface

When I first read the quote in the heading of this blog, it was in Floyd Skloot's memoir, The Night-Side: Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and the Illness Experience. As someone who has this poorly-named condition (also known as Chronic Fatigue Immune Dysfunction Syndrome or Myalgic Encephalomeylitis -- CFIDS/ME), Sacks' comment gave meaning to my life at a time when I was struggling to give meaning to losing my health, career, social life, and financial and physical independence. Even if I was sick, I was still a writer. I still had a mind (even if it didn't work as well as it used to) to make sense of the horror and wonder I was living that my peers were not.

As I thought about titling a blog in a way that would best describe all the disparate parts of me, this quote eventually came to mind. While it refers to the illness experience, the title "behind the surface" could also describe what I do as an academic studying American Evangelicalism and the Israel/Palestine conflict. When people find out what I study, I am peppered with questions and spend a lot of time explaining what is happening behind the surface of CNN or The New York Times.

Being poor and going through the disability process allows one to also see behind the surface of a welfare system set up to discourage truly helping the poor. One that seeks to punish the poor while maintaining the barest minimum of aid a civilized society can give and still claim to be civilized (though I'm not too convinced by said claim). Through my sister Tammy, I get to see a bit behind the surface of black America and just how racist a society we remain, as well as the hope and love in people working to soften its impact.

As a Christian who grew up evangelical Baptist and converted to the Byzantine Rite of the Catholic Church on Pentacost of 2000 (is that not the coolest chrismation date ever?) but who is also learning about Buddhism and Taoism through treatment for CFIDS/ME, as well as spent a lot of time learning about Islam when I studied Arabic and Judaism when I studied Hebrew, I'm trying to learn to look behind the surface of the literalism I grew up with and towards the dynamism of a relationship with God. This is particularly challenging for me as an academic who has been trained to think critically. To deconstruct any text (and you'd be surprised at what I can turn into a "text'). At the moment I'm working at trying to be less intellectual about my faith and to feel it a bit more.

I hope to make this blog a bit less accidental than my earlier blog, which was started more as an experiment to see how one goes about getting a blog (you know, d'oh! I've got a blog! I have to write something). Though, I can't promise it will be any more articulate. :)

So, here's to life behind the surface...