My Body is Not my Enemy

My body isn't my enemy. It's not. 

I'm not at all sure how to go about writing this blog post. I have so many thoughts (read incredibly strong convictions) and emotions bubbling up inside of me that need an outlet. I'm only 36, and yet I have been working at reconciliation with my body for roughly 3 decades. I cannot remember a time as a child or young person in which I did not feel at war with my body. 

The war is over. 

Not because one side triumphed, but because I/we realized that there are no sides at all. My body is not an entity outside of my "self." 

I wrote an article for The Mennonite quite some time ago on the topic of children and praying with their bodies. In it I draw from the work of Jane Vennard when I say "...the valuing of soul over body has also created a body-negative culture in North America, where bodies are seen as “beasts of burden” that need to be starved into thinness or whipped into shape."Our culture hates our bodies. I know that seems like a ludicrous thing to say given the attention that we lavish upon them. We have creams, ointments, masks, waxes, tanning lotions and beds, and programs to keep them in line. Surely we love our bodies, perhaps too much? 

I don't think so. 

Think about loving a child. If I were to daily look my child in the eyes and tell her that she is not good enough, that she is too fat, or that she is stupid, or that she needs less hair/more hair, should be taller/shorter, should get off her lazy ass, should simply not be whatever she currently is, then I would have my child removed from my care. This is not love, this is abuse. We abuse our bodies. We abuse them when we consistently and constantly judge ourselves, when we berate ourselves, when we speak as if our bodies were somehow not part of us (my body is sensitive, my body hurts etc.), when we try with every ounce of our being and every penny in our pockets to make our bodies something that they are not, we are abusive.

I grew up believing that abusing my body was healthy and good. This is what North American culture taught me. I learned that if I am sad and I begin to cry, I should stifle that impulse, wipe the tears away and suck it up. I learned that if I experience pain in my knee, I should ignore it and push through the pain. I learned that if my body doesn't look a certain way, I should fight it with every weapon I can find. I learned that every natural impulse or characteristic that I have is a problem to overcome. I have fine hair, I should check out a new shampoo. I'm heavy-set, I should try this new  diet. I'm sensitive and anxious, I should take medication. I grow body hair, I should be waxed. I grew up with the idea that my body was a thing, and that thing was a problem. And if I could just solve all the problems then I would be happy and the sun would shine out every orifice (watch a diet or hair commercial, I'm not exaggerating).

What a load of hogwash.

I'm not sure exactly how I've come to that realization. I think mentally I've known for years that this was the case, but it's only in the last few years or so that I've come to truly embrace a different way of viewing the world. My body is me and I am my body. I cannot speak of my body as if it is not in every way connected to my mind/spirit/soul/thoughts/emotions. I love how Margaret Farley talks about "inspirited bodies, embodied spirits" (Farley, Just Love). My body is not something apart from myself that needs to be overcome, my body simply is me. And as I have worked with a Gestalt Pastoral Care minister I've come to realize how ridiculous it is to actually imagine that I can feel something in my heart, and have it not impact my body, or injure some part of my body and not have it impact my entire being.

So if I am a whole being, am I then something to be overcome? Many strains of Christianity would say yes, whole-heartedly. As human beings we are at root, sinful, at root we are a problem that is only overcome through Christ. I am a worm who is nothing unless I am "saved." As Alicia discusses far more eloquently on her blog, many of us have a negative theological anthropology. It is an understanding of the self that begins after "the fall." We are oriented in the world through a lens of sin. But that's not where the story begins. Genesis was written to provide stories of orientation, stories to explain who we are, how we can understand ourselves and God. Genesis is a call to faith that begins...in the beginning. These stories of orientation do not begin with our mistakes, they begin in our goodness, in our createdness. They begin in love.

At my core, I am good. In my entirety. I live in a broken world, and I am a broken person and so my goodness is at times masked by hurt/pain, illness, bad behaviour etc. But none of that changes that I am good. And if I choose a lens through which I see myself as good and beloved, over a lens through which I see a worm who is unworthy (or the cultural lens that says I need cosmetic enhancement), that lens makes all the difference. 

When I see my whole self through the lens of my belovedness, then I am enough. I am not a problem to overcome, I am a person on a journey. When I sense that I am sad, I allow myself to feel sorrow, I weep, and I approach my sadness with compassion. When I sense that I am experiencing some type of physical pain, I approach the pain with curiousity. When I look into a mirror, I simply see me as I am. I do not approach myself with judgement, but with wonder. I do not succeed at this everyday, it's hard work to change lenses entirely. But most days, at the very least, there is no hatred. There is no war.

I ache when I see ads/videos/books that try so hard to convince me that I am a problem. My teeth which are a natural shade of "tooth" are not white enough. My body which naturally grows hair is too hairy. My breasts which are naturally large should stand up taller (a gravitational impossibility). My skin which is naturally white should be more tan. Every single day I am bombarded with people telling me that I have a problem and it needs to be fixed. That I am at war and must be armed for battle. I ache for myself and for every woman, every man, and every child who learns to view the world and themselves through a lens that promotes war against the body, that promotes an understanding of the self that is divided and in perpetual conflict.

It's funny, that often people think of God as judgmental, or exacting, or demanding. I think we do a pretty spectacular job of that all on our own. And when I feel completely disheartened and overwhelmed by our warring ways, I meditate. And God meets me. She meets me under a huge oak tree and we sit in the sun and it shines and we shine, and there is peace (no purchase necessary).

Yes I appreciate free-range, but I simply can't raise chickens in my bathroom

I was checking out some great links posted on The Femonite this morning and I came across an article that stirred up some thoughts for me. It's called "Is Michal Pollen a sexist pig?" and the author, Emily Matchar, discusses the current trend toward domesticity, whole foods, and urban chickens (and a whole lot of other related stuff) and how those who are blaming feminism for the destruction of our food culture and our health have it wrong. It's quite a fascinating article and it brings up a lot of interesting points, but I just want to touch on this one particular paragraph (which, I should mention, is not really the main point of the article).

Our country is clearly in a dire state when it comes to obesity and the environmental impact of factory farming, so the fact that more people care about food is terrific. But the kitchen’s always been a fraught place when it comes to gender and class, and the twenty-first century is shaping up to be no different. For some, the new cooking culture is incredibly empowering. Others are finding themselves tied up in apron strings all over again.

I too love that people are starting to care more about food, about where it comes from, how we can prepare it and share it with friends and family. But I have absolutely no desire to be part of a culture that shames people into doing and being things that are not life-giving or provides them with another way to feel insufficient. If you've just managed to rip off those apron strings after decades of kitchen monotony, then please, don't look back! In my opinion, the purpose of recognizing where our food comes from is so that we can be reconnected with the earth, the purpose of reclaiming cooking is so that we can revel in creativity and hospitality, the purpose of rediscovering whole foods is so that our bodies and our earth can be healthier. All of these things are meant to be life-giving, but that doesn't mean that all people who hold these particular values (and not everyone does) will desire or be able to live them out in the same way. 

I meet people who most certainly care deeply about the foods that are eaten in their homes, and about the environment etc. but not all of them find digging in the dirt, or cooking in the kitchen to be life-giving. Gardening and cooking are first of all, skills that not everyone has (you can always learn, but let's face it, some people will always find that their plants die and their cakes flop), and second, they are activities that drain the life out of some people. Alicia adores digging in the dirt and watching things grow and I hate it. Let me be clear, I love the idea of gardening and harvest and growing things and being sustainable, but I just don't like to have dirty hands. I never have. But I love cooking (most days). I find it incredibly life-giving to pull fresh baked bread out of the oven or cook pots of nourishing soup, but I also know people for whom cooking a meal is akin to going to the dentist. What is life-giving for one, is simply not life-giving for another. If you love to cook or garden, great! If you'd love to learn, that's great too! If you want to run for the hills when someone hands you an apron, I'll find you a good pair of runners!

And whether you find these tasks life-giving or not, realistically we don't all have the time to do absolutely everything from scratch. Our ancestors didn't do everything "all natural" because they wanted to, but because they had to. They had to make choices about where their priorities lay and what could get done in a day given their reality and we have to do the same. If you have three kids and a full time job, then your choices are going to look mighty different than mine, as a single woman currently underemployed. Some people who really want to get in touch with where food comes from will sell their house, quit their job and start share-cropping on a farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere. Others might buy a good book for their kids and suggest a school field trip to a farm at their next parent/teacher meeting and still others might grow tomatoes in a pot on their 3 foot balcony. I for one love free-range chickens, but I have no yard, and I can't raise them in my bathroom. We have to make choices that grow out of our values as well as our current reality (which doesn't mean that you can't take risks or dream). 

And another valuable point that Matchar makes is that the group that most largely supports movement towards this contemporary domesticity is the group that can choose to do so because they are part of the more privileged and/or educated middle-class (though certainly not all fall into this group). It is simply not financially feasible for every single person to follow the current trend of buying all organic, free-range, fair trade, local etc. These foods are expensive! Shopping at Superstore, Walmart or Kroger does not mean that one doesn't care about the environment, it may simply mean that's where one can afford to shop in order to put food on the table. And while some foods are actually cheaper when you do make them yourself (yogurt), they also take time and a bit of know-how. Again, each of us has to make purchasing choices based on both our values and our reality. 

I love a lot of stuff that comes out of this more natural, sustainable, earthy movement. I love that there are children out there learning to grow things. I love that there are people pulling bread out of the oven for the first time with a sense of pride and accomplishment. I love that there are people being creative in the kitchen and thinking about new ways to care for our earth. But I don't love the judgement, or the guilt, or the shame that sometimes seems to get attached to these ideals. Valuing our health, our food, our planet, and our creativity is supposed to be life-giving and I don't want people to feel insufficient because they don't have the time or money or ability to live in the box this trend has created, even a sustainable eco-friendly one!