REACH AROUND

The Belly Button Challenge???   Are you kidding me?!?  What fresh hell are we now visiting upon our already ridiculous measures of health and beauty?  I'm glad there is a disclaimer in this story, but still...

I recall at some tender teen age standing in front of the mirror trying to discern if I had the coveted "thigh gap" -- daylight between the thighs when feet are together in a standing position.  I think there was supposed to also be a gap between knees and calves as well as calves and ankles.  I generally felt good about myself on this one.  I have slender legs.  That's because every calorie I eat rushes directly to my waistline and builds a permanent home there;  A McMansion, so to speak.

So when I saw this story online today, I knew I was in trouble.  There are certain Yoga poses where one reaches around to grab some other part of the body and I never quite make it.  I've blamed it on assuming I have extraordinarily short arms, but if this story is correct and a woman's average arm length is 24 inches, well, that turns out to be my precise inner arm length from pit to longest middle fingertip.  Still I was 9-1/2 inches short of successfully tickling my navel on this Belly Button Challenge.  http://www.kirotv.com/news/lifestyles/health/people-are-taking-belly-button-challenge-see-if-th/nmdLs/

Isn't it crazy that this "test" is touted as indicating "good health" when it likely means anorexia, hyper-flexibility, or maybe a slender body with decent range of motion -- a body that just happens to be slim and bendy, but not necessarily healthy.

I'm glad I don't use these measures to determine my self-worth.  I'm troubled that I even felt moved to try it.  (NOTE:  That naval piercing would likely go unnoticed on me....lost in the culdesac.)

At least, that's the view from here...©

KAUA'I AGAIN

Aloha!

Back here for our annual Kaua'i respite.  This is my early morning view from the terrace, becoming more and more busy with folks coming down to the coffee bar for caffeine and pastries.   Groups of elder folk (this means anyone obviously older than me) and youngers with little kids (kids younger than school age).  This time of year travel is for those who don't have as many responsibilities and commitments tying them to the mainland, I guess.

We got in on Thursday after a 6 hour flight that was informative regarding the various euphemisms the flight crew employed to describe frequent turbulence… "a few bumps"; " 'chop' over the Pacific; "a little shake".  Hmmmm….. I must have had just the right amount of meds on board because my flight anxiety stayed fairly under control with a little deep breathing; a little visualizing a peaceful scene.  God, I hate flying.

The problem up there was the massive low pressure front still creating 120 MPH winds pushing at our little 737.  That system had created huge swells of Pacific Ocean rushing onto the Islands' north shores creating 40-50 foot waves the day before we flew in.  Yowza!  That's a lot of water hitting the beach!  We saw photos, saw signs at the airport when we landed warning tourists heading north of flooding and closed roads.  We stay on the east side, on a protected bay, that has been calm as a lake.  Just like I like it.

We've been coming here for 15 years.  Flying in just before landing felt like coming home, as we cruised alongside the island landscape that has become so familiar to us.  I love familiarity and a sense of belonging.  Yet….this time I'm feeling antsy.  I'm a little impatient.  I realize I'm feeling like I'd like to see and experience something new.  Hub is a little startled by this admission.  He is usually the one pushing me to move out of my comfort zone and here I am fussing about wanting to branch out in my "adventuring". (This might mean a Marriott on a different island…I haven't completely lost my mind!)

The other thing that seems to be nudging at my consciousness is (as is frequently true), thoughts of my mother.  There was a time when she was about my age I suppose, when she used to say she had always wanted to visit Hawaii.  She said it wistfully, as if this was a dream far beyond her ability to realize, and I suppose for her it must have felt that way.  A northern Illinois farm girl of the Depression years, living a subsistence existence, had thought she had realized the pinnacle of success for having been able to marry, raise a family, build a new home in the suburbs, and come to own her own small beautician business.  Travel that didn't happen in the car on a highway was not in the cards -- or at least in her mind's ability to fathom for herself.

Later, when we started coming here, I suggested she might want to come along.  But she was older then, and not interested in travel anymore, and she turned me down.  She said she just didn't have the same desire to go anymore; just wasn't interested.  I think now I should have ignored her and made her come; should have pushed her a bit.  I wish I had been able to give her the gift of a morning like this…the warm air hugging my skin, the gentle breeze like a loving caress, the soft glow of sunrise over the Pacific promising a day where the visual landscape is a riot of tropical color, where birdcall delights the ear.

I don't know if there is a heaven or anything like it.  The more I think about mortality the more I want to believe there is something pleasant "out there"…I hope for my mom she is in a warm sunny place that is far more beautiful than any Hawaiian Island.

I hope for me, that whatever I find after this mortal life has ended, I can get to that new adventure with a minimum of "chop".

At least, that's the view from here… ©

MALFUNCTION

Here's a "Testimonial" I presented as part of a Women's Service at my church last Sunday:

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First of all I’m annoyed that no one sees my red hair.  I complain about this a lot.  I mean, are people blind???  My hair is bright red!  It’s beautiful!  Everyone has told me this since I was 2 years old.  I don’t understand....

Next, I’m annoyed that they’ve started making jeans in weird sizes that don’t fit.  I mean, really, I can try on 20 pairs of jeans and not one, NOT ONE, fits anymore.  Why, back 30-40 years ago I could find a decent pair of jeans that fit like a glove!

Also, the entire skin care industry is tanking.  I slather on cleansers, toners, serums and various moisturizers, per manufacturers' exacting instructions and what happens?  I still see wrinkles!  It seems my skin is sagging a bit in the neck region.  Again, what’s with these products?  I’m calling for a recall!

Also, and this is really serious -- there are now more calories in food than there used to be.  I eat exactly the same amount of bread and cheese and cake but somehow the scale is showing weight gain.  That can’t be right.  Of course, it may be the scale; I’ve heard they can go bad and need recalibrating.

Someone suggested to me recently that all of these annoyances may be age-related.  Hogwash!  There are plenty of people out there my age and older who do not experience these changes.

Their hair is the same vibrant color it was in their 20’s.  Their skin is tight and taut and not sagging anywhere; in fact, in some cases, their faces barely move!  They have not gained an ounce of weight as they aged -- some have flatter tummies and impossibly perkier “other parts” than ever.  Their clothing fits perfectly.

So, obviously, there is combination of malfunction of my body and the industries in place to support it.  In our society, in the 21st century, there is absolutely no reason, we are told, for a person of advancing age to have to look like they look.  None at all.  

Unless, of course, looking like we look is some form of statement about self-acceptance; some form of protest against the cultural romance with youth; some crazy personal demonstration of the cumulative effects of a lifetime of love, challenge, joy, grief, hard work, and laughter that carves lines into our faces, causes gray hairs to sprout from our heads, and encourages us to embrace our imperfect bodies.

We all want to look our best, to look as “good as we feel” some say.  There is nothing wrong with a good haircut, flattering clothing, a little body adornment.  What is wrong is the message that we are not good enough just as we are, especially as we grow older in this youth-obsessed culture.  So next time you look in the mirror, don’t think “malfunction”.  Instead, smile and say, “Hello Beautiful!”

At least, that's the view from here....©