If Wishes Were Horses

For most of my life I was extremely self-conscious about my appearance. I constantly compared myself to other women. I wished my hair were as shiny or my waist were as thin. I wished my face was pretty and that my feet weren't so big. I spent half a lifetime coveting what I could never have. No matter how much time I spent wishing I looked like someone else, I couldn't. I would always just be me.

What is our obsession with body image? We have our own ideas of beauty and chase our tails trying to conform to them. What is it about that special piece of clothing that makes us feel pretty or sexy but contrarily, the outfit that makes us feel icky? And why does it matter? I find it curious the way people view and instantly judge each other. We think by looking at someone we know their situation. Too fat? Stop eating so much. Too thin? Eat more. Yellow teeth? Get a tooth brush already! We stand prepared to make everyone conform to our idea of beauty and yet we hardly conform to our own. Every single woman I know thinks she's fat even if she's not overweight. Why do we do it to ourselves? Who are we really trying to please? How do we stop the madness?

I was looking at a picture my son took of me the other night. I freely admit that I never in a million years thought I would get down to the size I wear now. I am smaller than I was in high school. But when I looked at that picture, all I could think was critical thoughts.

I won't share what I thought here because I don't need strangers picking apart my personal appearance. It's bad enough I do it myself. But it reminded me of a picture I took with a friend of mine last year while riding bikes on the Katy Trail. I was so proud to have my picture taken with her. I really didn't care that we were in bike shorts and bulgy. Sorry, unless you are anorexic, no one looks good in spandex. I love my friend and couldn't wait to post the picture online. My love for her overrode my self-consciousness. I wanted to encourage others to get out and be active. But immediately upon viewing the picture she said, "Please don't post that. I don't like the way I look." Boo. I was legitimately sad. I actually felt like she was taking something beautiful away from me. It's the same way with people who refuse to have their picture taken because they don't like the way they look. One of my aunts is a gorgeous beauty who likes to take pictures but really dislikes having her own picture taken. Why? You guessed it! She doesn't like the way she looks.

My youngest son frequently tells me how beautiful I am. He compliments my clothes and jewelry. He hugs me and seems genuinely happy to lay eyes on me. I bet he would feel the same even if I was purple and wore a hot pink bikini. He simply loves me. I used to think people only liked me because they felt sorry for me. What a silly thing to think! People like me for who I am inside. The same way I fall in love with people. I find something I have in common and pursue a relationship with them. In the end, it really doesn't matter what they look like. I love the person inside, not their perfectly shaped knees or properly proportioned shoulder blades. Therefore I think it's high time I adjusted my critical eye to something a little more important...like my attitude! It's time to stop beating myself up because I can't crunch my tummy fat away. I can't exercise myself to perfection no matter how hard I try so how about I stop trying?

From now on I resolve to love myself for who I am. I resolve to smile more, laugh at myself and just be more comfortable in my own skin. I'm going to stop worrying about my frizzy hair and knock-knees. Because, really. Who cares? In the world of Margaret, I'm one of the coolest people I know. I should celebrate that!

Henceforth and from this day forward, when someone compliments me on my appearance I resolve not to argue with them or explain away whatever I think it wrong with my appearance at that moment in time. I resolve to simply smile, say, "thank you!" and then let it go.

Today if you are struggling with your self-image, remember, your body is a gift. Sure, you could waste time beating yourself up because your nose is a little more bulbous than you care for, but let me ask you a powerful question, why would you want to? Does it help anything to have a negative self image? Let me answer that for you... Nope!

Once on the Lips

Sometimes we forget the power of our words. We recite the old adage, "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me." But the truth is, words can hurt us. Very deeply. They seep into the sore places in our hearts and infect with pain that can have a long lasting impact.

Life can be very stressful. We work hard to bring home a paycheck, only to give it away to a bill collector. We watch the people we work with go on exotic vacations while we settle for our camping trip in the woods. We sip hot tea because we can't drink coffee. We sigh, grieve a little, and move forward because self-pity is ugly.

I always try to see the beautiful things in life. I may never climb a mountain but I enjoy talking to people who have. I met such a man last week while collecting donations for the American Diabetes Association. He showed me pictures of the mountains he has climbed with his wife. He talked about practice hikes and adjusting to altitude. Our conversation was filled with wonder because I love to imagine what it is like to do something so foreign to me. Interspersed into that conversation, however, was his adoration for his daughter who he likes to take with him on these hikes. She has Cerebral Palsy. I might add that she was a footnote in the conversation. He didn't complain about her, but rather complimented her strength and beautiful character. I walked away from that conversation thinking about mountains, not the hardship of dealing with a disabled child.

How I wish every conversation was about hiking in the mountains. Yesterday I had such a great day and came home excited to see my family. Granted one of my children has strep and is covered head to toe in a miserable rash(scarlet fever) and we are all at risk of catching the highly contagious virus. Still, I was happy to see them. My youngest was particularly whiny and had a difficult time wrapping his mind around what I had prepared(bought fully cooked) for dinner. I was very patient with him and tried to help him come around to eating—which he finally did. It was obvious that he was tired and cranky and I know how it feels to have a bad day.

Still others in my family were not so accommodating. Let the crab fest begin! Suddenly barbs were flying around the house like darts, poisoning every person they touched. At one point I said, "Let's not be unkind to each other. I understand we don't feel well and we've all had a long day, but there's no sense wounding each other with our words." My pleas fell on deaf ears, however. The barbs escalated to darts, which escalated to knives and pretty soon everyone felt slashed to ribbons. How cruel words can cut! As the mom I endured this onslaught as graciously as I could, wrapped everyone up for bed, and quietly retreated to my room for solace.

It takes great strength to control ones tongue. I'm not always very good at it. Sometimes I feel like I have this wild stallion in my mouth that is just rearing to unleash hell on anyone in my direct vicinity. I hold tightly to the reigns for a while but then a catalyst in the form of insult or injury collides with my will power and I'm undone. Then all I can do is grieve over the trampled feelings I leave in my stead. So what can I do to keep it from running free?

I have learned that sometimes the best thing I can do is be silent. Not just in hostile situations, but in every day conversation. The art of listening seems to be lost. We live at a frenetic pace and are in such a hurry to get in our quota of words out that we miss the heart of the people around us. If you are guilty of unleashing your words on the unsuspecting masses, pause and consider the following, how will your words help the person you wish to speak to? Will they heal or destroy? Are they even necessary?

We are so often guilty of wounding those we love the most in this world. We bring our tired and crabby home and take comfort that these dear ones are bound to us and cannot escape our verbal tyranny. We treat them like mats, rubbing our filthy paws on their hearts and then trotting off for more prey. How we take this love for granted in the worst possible way, as if love were a plastic ring and we can simply discard it and buy another.

Today, consider your words carefully. Let them be seasoned with light. Spread hope like a handful of seeds and watch the beautiful garden that will grow around you. But when your heart is filled with venom as black as ink, try to find a way to keep it from spilling out by remembering this…. Your words have power to do great harm, but they also have power to heal. Choose your words carefully.

Encouragement for the Troubled Soul

Have you ever wanted something that you couldn’t have? Something so precious that you felt somehow smaller for the wanting of it? When you saw someone else who had the thing that you wanted, just standing next to that person was excruciating. You wanted to like that person and be happy for them, but your heart hurt thinking about how they didn’t even care that they had the thing that you wanted. In fact, they would even complain about it. What was it? A husband? A job? A house? Does it really matter? I’m not talking about envy or greed. I’m talking about something legitimate. Something as simple as food when you’re hungry, or money when you’re in debt. The longing for it swells, and maybe it overwhelms you so much that you retreat to a dark place where no one can see your pain. You might even tuck the pain deep inside and pretend it isn’t there. And if by chance someone happens to notice it, or even worse, tries to make you talk about it, you begin to feel weak and hopeless, but rather than express it, you come up with excuses for it because you know better than anybody that there is nothing you can do to about it. You will always want the thing and you will never get it and that’s just the way it is.

Have you ever felt rejected? Have you poured out your life for someone only to have that person say they never want to see you again and walk away forever? Have you lain in the smoldering wreckage of your loneliness and just gasped for breath? You want to take medicine to stop the pain but no one has invented a balm for the broken heart. So just you lay there like a fish gasping for water while your soul shrivels and cracks and breaks into a million pieces. You want to stand and be strong but the best you can do is fake a smile and pretend.

Have you ever come to the end of yourself? Have you done everything right and still ended up with a broken spirit? Maybe the diet didn’t work. You were fired from the perfect job. The test results say stage 4 cancer and you know the pain is coming but right at that moment, all you feel is numb. And you want someone to hold you and take the pain away but no one can. So you crawl under the covers and silently pray for a miracle. But hope is a match someone lit at the other side of the room and worry is the gust of wind that just came along and blew it out.

Maybe you figure you’ll wrap up your pain with a tidy bow of activity. There is always a task or project to work on and you figure if you just keep busy and don’t let your thoughts wander too much, somehow you’ll make it through. But sometimes you wake up at 2:00am in the middle of winter and your heart is raked so sore that you have to step outside in the cold and stare at the stars just so you can remember what it feels like to stop hurting for a moment. The stars don’t judge who you are or what you’ve done. They don’t tell you that you’ve failed or that you were never good enough. They don’t lie or cheat or steal from you. They merely twinkle. They give a simple gift of loveliness, and there is something so soothing about a silent wonder that will be beautiful just because it can.

Do you ever wonder about those stars? At 2:00am they seem like more than rocks floating in the sky. Where did they come from? Who made them? Why do they sparkle in the vast emptiness of space? They live in the dark and yet they continue to shine. They reflect the glory of something they can’t touch and continue on alone, but somehow not alone. And suddenly, maybe, just maybe, in the cold, still night you realize you’re not alone either. Maybe you realize that the thing you want isn’t nearly as impossible as you thought it was.

Wherever you are in your journey tonight, I want you to know you are not alone. You are not unlovable or unloved. Your situation is not hopeless. We all face storms, but if we are very brave, we keep walking even when the darkness of our souls tries to choke us. If we are strong enough to not lie down and die, we can emerge stronger and more beautiful than even the brightest star in the sky.

Wherein Margaret Goes to the Circus

I went to the circus yesterday. I was invited by my friend, Leslie. Normally I wouldn't go to the circus. The reason for this is very simple, my home is a circus--and not in the Family Circus kind of way.

I only say that because the characters in Family Circus don't use such colorful language as us. And by "us" I mean my husband. I never use colorful language. Because everyone that knows me knows that I'm perfect. See how the people in the Family Circus picture are smiling and hugging. The circus at my house looks more like this:

But I digress. The real circus, as in The St. Louis Moolah Shrine Circus, was almost as loud as my family circus and much more fun.

We arrived an hour early so the boys could participate in the festivities. I should note that Ephraim's friend is only three and is also an only child. This was our first outing so they were learning how to play together. Please note Ephraim has two big brothers who are 13 and 18 and his idea of play is slightly different than his new friend. See picture of Three Stooges above. Anywho, this is them riding the train. They were adorable! They looked so happy as they wound around the track.

And then they didn't. One minute they were smiling and laughing. The next minute they were trying to see who could pull the steering wheel out of the train while screaming as if their hair was on fire. The conductor quickly brought the train to a stop and gave us a look that said, "I've had my share of ornery kids but yours take the cake!" But Leslie and I just smiled and nodded because Ephraim's friend was running. Did I mention he likes to run and that he's faster than Road Runner? Beep! Beep!

Leslie insisted our next activity would be riding the elephants. I was very excited for the boys to ride the elephants but stated it was not my activity of choice. Therefore I would stand close by and smile like a good mommy and take pictures. The only problem with this was that they required the parent ride with the child and my child really wanted to ride the elephant. I let Leslie go first but for some reason her child was terrified of the elephant--I can't imagine why--and she and Ephraim's friend had to climb back down the ladder. Since my child had already been placed on top of the poor beast I felt that I had no other choice but to climb aboard. Oh the humanity. At least that's what the elephant said when I sat down.

Since some of the readers of this blog may have never had the pleasure of attending the circus, I would like to speak to circus ambiance. I suppose I could elaborate about the bright lights and the trapeze and the large crowds of smiling people, but I'll save that for another day. I would like to say that I had never been to the circus before and these were my big takeaways. They put big cats in little cages and when they let them out into the arena they slap them with whips and poke them with(what appeared to be) big sticks. I would have been worried about the trainers but they looked meaner than the cats. Also, there were people walking and bouncing and riding a bike around on a tight wire. I think everyone enjoyed this but it made me incredibly nervous. They did a number of "amazing" feats on that high-wire but I didn't enjoy it at all because I was fairly certain one of them was going to fall and turn into a big pile of goo. I don't like human goo. The other thing about the circus is that it is very loud.

I don't know what kind of speakers they equip that outfit with but they must be very expensive. Amazing how we could still hear our children screaming above the clamor and commotion. But while all of that is well and good, the most important thing about the circus is the cotton candy. I know this because as soon as we walked in that's the first thing my child noticed. And regardless of all the other activities we did, procuring cotton candy was the most important. I know this because he kept screaming, "I want cotton candy!" until I thought his lungs would burst. I tried to tell him that cotton candy is nothing but sugar and that sugar is bad for the body but he wasn't having it. It was cotton candy or ruptured ear drums. I wonder if this is why I craved cotton candy so badly when I was pregnant. Regardless, we bonded over cotton candy. And if there wasn't a picture to prove it, I would emphatically deny this happened.

But the best and most wonderfullest part of the circus was this:

Leslie is just about one of my favorite people and we had so much fun.

In short, I would highly recommend The St. Louis Moolah Shrine circus. Just watch out for the circus workers. And the camels. And the people on the high wire, lest you find yourself participating in the circus as you end up on the bottom of a pile of human goo.

Destroying Happiness One Piece of Cake at a Time

Today I was The Evil Queen. I denied someone their happy ending.

For those who have never watched the show, Once Upon A Time, let me simplify. Snow White had an evil step mother who hated her guts and decided to do her in. Her soul purpose in life is destroying the happiness of Snow and Charming. It's a very clever show and one I am wholeheartedly addicted to. The evil queen spends a great deal of time destroying the happiness of everyone around her, at least when she's not ripping their hearts out or outright killing them.

My friend and I had finished eating lunch today when we happened to walk by two of the most beautiful cakes you have ever seen in your life. The cake was free(of course) and the icing looked like billowy melt-in-your-mouth clouds of bliss. Yet when my friend tried to go in for a piece I yanked her back. You see, she is new to my place of employment and not yet inoculated to the blatant food bonanza. I know she is trying very hard to follow a low-carb diet and I also knew if she ate that cake she would hate herself later. At least that's what I tell myself now. Honestly, I think I wanted that cake more than she did and I knew if I let her have it, I'd have to eat some too. And that would be, well, just wrong! This is how evil begins, my friends. We murder the happiness of our friends to save ourselves. Eesh.

Yes, I am a monster.

I squashed her happiness beneath my shoe because I am weak and selfish. And because she's a good friend she didn't call me out on it. But I distinctly remember a moment in my not-so-slender days when a friend slapped Godiva chocolate out of my hand and literally broke my heart. Being denied our hearts desire can be very painful.

So maybe I'm being a bit melodramatic. It was only cake after all. But that's how it is for me. Sometimes I just can't deal with it. I know if I eat one piece, I'll have to eat 3 and then 5 and then I'll start eating something else with copious amounts of sugar in it and before I know it...

I suppose this blog post has no other purpose than to apologize to my friend. She is a very nice gal and I feel really bad that I denied her cake because I have so little will power. She is a really awesome friend for putting up with my food neurosis and I am a doofus. Someday, when I grow up, I will eat cake and be able to stop after a couple bites. Until then, if you want cake, avoid me. I am seriously cake disturbed.