The Body Imperfect

I wasn't going to post this one. Because instead of noticing the interesting composition or the lovely texture of the forest setting in this shot; all I notice is my stomach, the strange look on my face, and the crooked way my body is positioned.

Because of course this project is all about how I look, right?

You'd think after all this time, I would have moved beyond that. After all, that was one of the reasons I embarked on this in the first place.

Acceptance of myself.

More than acceptance, really. What I hoped for (and still aspire to, truth be told) is to be able to look beyond what's on the outside and just say, "Hey Jane, you're awesome. Keep it up."

So while I could berate myself for not being at that point yet, I'm not going to. Instead, I'm going to post this photo. Because, it's a pretty good shot and I'm not going to let my insecurities over my looks take that away from me.

I'm not all the way there yet, but I'd say that's a step in the right direction.

Emerging

I was talking with a friend yesterday about growth and evolution. I mentioned that I'd been doing some difficult personal work and we discussed how it is for us to grapple with those dark parts of ourselves. How in order to get clear and focused on who we truly are, we have to dig into and explore the depths. We must bravely gaze into the dark mirror and see what we can learn from it. 

But we also acknowledged that all that digging, while revealing and cathartic,  can also be very, very draining. What happens if you find you've dug yourself a hole so deep that you can't get out? How does one balance the good and the bad? 

I've found that it's easier to accept the struggle with the ease, the sorrow with the joy, and the pain with the pleasure when I remember that I am the one who is in control. I am the master of my thoughts. Good and bad. I decide which mirror I am looking into from moment to moment. It's not an all or nothing state of mind. 

I was walking in the woods alone yesterday thinking about all of this when I came upon a large, overturned tree. There was dirt clinging to the delicate  root system, leaves and other debris were now making a home there. I stuck my hand into it and was fascinated by the softness of the roots. These roots which were meant to be underground and hidden from view were now fully exposed. 

Out of the dark and into the light. The tree won't survive now that it's fallen. It's purpose has changed, but it still has a purpose. It still has work to do. 

Here I am as well. Still working in the dark but sticking my hand out occasionally to soak up the lightness. Accepting that I need both. My purpose may change from time to time as well, and that's not only ok, it's downright welcome. 

Reflecting on things I know and don't know

I'm standing in a meadow, in a field of new sumac plants and their deep red leaves and berries.

The sumac growth here was a surprise. I don't recall it being here last year and I know this meadow well. There is milkweed in this meadow, lots of it. Wild grasses, bent and folded close to the earth in oblong pressed shapes where deer bed down for the night. There are snakes here, and bunnies, chipmunks, field mice and all manner of other creatures. Foxes stop by, too. One of my lens caps is out here somewhere as well; I dropped it very near this spot around this time last year.

I could maybe say I'm partly responsible for the milkweed growth in this meadow. My dad used to take us, my brother and me, into this meadow every fall to pick apples from the ancient trees (which didn't produce any apples this year, finally too old I guess?) and to free the milkweed seeds from their pods, sending them floating across the air to be pressed into the earth elsewhere. But how this fresh field of sumac has erupted here, I don't know.

We used to call it "poison sumac," but this isn't the same plant (related, yes). This plant won't make you itch, and its berries are used for all sorts of things, like dyes, spices and flavorings.

But this post is supposed to be about me, right? Finding myself, finding some comfortable ground in self portraiting, discovery and whatnot. Not sumac or meadows or my lost lens cap.

I know this portrait was challenging (the light made it tough to see what was in focus). I know things are changing. I know I love this meadow and the millions of things, big and small, that I can discover here. I know I'm perpetually behind on so many things. I don't know what will be a surprise in this meadow next year. I don't know what will happen tomorrow. I know that I'm trying to get comfortable in an ever-shifting sea of change and flux, and that I am holding onto the things I know as long as possible, until I have to let them slip out of my grasp. I know I'm going to be okay with that.

My face

It seems like the last, oh, I don't know, several months of self portraits I've managed to avoid showing my face. Even here I'm partly shrouded by my hair (my safety blanket) and the shade.

I mostly don't have an issue with my face. I mean, I don't freak out when I look in the mirror. I see me, I think, in the mirror--an almost 50 year old woman who looks (mostly) her age. I don't have a problem with this. A lot of times, I actually think I'm kind of pretty.

What I do get hung up on is my face in photos. I don't feel like what comes out of the camera is what I see in the mirror. The lens is different from the mirror. The camera image is static. I wonder if maybe in the mirror we make little adjustments to avoid really seeing the parts we don't agree with, the lines or droops or pocks or dark spots? The camera is unforgiving, but the image is real. We can change those things in editing, of course. But then are we lying to ourselves?

I don't have an answer to being okay with my face in photos. I know I don't have to show my face in every self portrait as this is a creative project. But I also know that there are parts of me I feel self-conscious about and part of what I want in this project is to get over that, to see the beauty (yes, beauty!) in those parts that I sometimes don't love.

Jane wrote about this in her last post. I think we say and feel a lot of the same things regarding facing ourselves, and we're not unique. It may be a universal plight of the aging woman. Do we need to face the loss of our youth? Yes. Do we need to agree to the loss of beauty? No, I don't believe so. I think we have to embrace change in the definition, something more encompassing.

I have always loved writing

I went to visit my dad where he lives on the west side of the state with his friend. He's old now, 86, and his friend was away traveling and we all felt it would be good for him to have company. My brother stayed with him for five days and I took over for the weekend.

My dad dug this up, a Valentine's Day card I made for him when I was 8 (he wrote on the back, "made by Lisa, age 8"). The card has a poem in it that I (presumably) made up. It's corny, as you would expect. While there, he asked me to type the poem up for him since it's kind of hard to see. Remember those big, fat pencils we used back then? Their marks on this red paper have not aged all that well. The letters look more silvery now, but I can sort them out if I slow down.

My penmanship was pretty good (not anymore), and my grammar and use of punctuation probably made my teacher proud. I remember how important it was to me to write perfectly back then. It's still important--maybe one of the most important things to me, actually. When I write for work, I have a specific process (plan, draft, whittle, finesse, then sit on it for a day or longer, finalize, edit, don't submit just yet, edit again, submit or repeat previous two steps multiple times before submitting). When I write for myself, I am driven mad by any oversight (a typo or wrong word usage). I am trying not to be so uptight about blog or social media posts, but I do go back and edit. When I edit for work, which is mostly what my job is, I try to make other people's writing not only perfect, I aim to make it adhere to conventions, styles, guidelines.

I love the process of all of this. I love the rules and the intricacies of grammar and style. I loved these things before I even knew what they were, back when I was forming letters on this card and in elementary school classrooms and putting words together and learning where and where not to place commas. It's comforting. 

That my dad is still around and savors a corny Valentine's Day card from an 8-year-old me is profoundly comforting as well.

That I enjoyed something so much then, and that it is my career now... well, I am not sure what this says, other than I feel extraordinarily lucky.

Hiding

I saw a beautiful black and white photo online last night and I thought it would make a good self
portrait challenge. Woman, laying down, close up on her face, blurred background. Sounds like a nice image but beyond that, what would I say about it? Not much, probably.

Well, after attempting to shoot such a photo of myself, it turns out I have something to say after all.

It's not easy shooting yourself while laying down. It's a clumsy affair that causes one to furrow their brow and make funny faces. And your hair decides it's just going to do its own thing.

I hated every one that I took. Aside from thinking I looked awful, they just weren't all that great from a photographic standpoint. Or maybe they were interesting in a way, but I could not get past how I looked in them. Then I saw this one and it struck me that I'm not young and gorgeous like the model in the inspiration photograph. So maybe my expectations were a little skewed right from the start.

Yeah, I have bags under my eyes, large pores, and a furrowed brow. But dammit, it doesn't matter. I have so much to offer aside from my looks. I'm funny and smart and a good friend.

It doesn't fucking matter. But I allow it to matter. I allow myself to gauge my value on my looks.
This is a choice I am making.

I repeat.

This is a choice I am making.

This photo is a clear indication of that choice.

It's not a bad thing to want to look good. But it is bad when I let my looks define who I am. When I let them dictate my worthiness. When I cut my face in half because I can't bear to show all of it. When I edit the photo so it's softer and prettier looking.

I have a long way to go. I wish I could say I'm going to stop making this choice today. But it's not that easy.

Growth never is though, is it?

I'm not giving up, however, just acknowledging that I am human and I have work yet to do. Today I'm hiding but you never know what tomorrow will bring. And that, my friends, is life.

Letting the Wind Carry Me

You can't see me in this photo. But I'm in there.

My vision, my eye, my point of view. By the action of creating this image, it became a portrait of me, in a way.

But beyond that, when I saw this photo for the first time, I gasped. Just a little. You see, this photo is me. There's dark around the edges, and light inside. Like the pods releasing their seeds, I am releasing  something too.

I'm releasing expectations and rules about who I thought I was.

I'm releasing fears and limitations.

I'm releasing anyone or anything that makes me question my value.

I'm releasing the idea that occasional sadness means I can't also be happy.

So like the seeds, I am trusting that the winds of change will lead me to a place of growth. To a place where I will embrace and love both my darkness and my light.

The Time to Shine

The last several months, a wise person has been helping me sort myself out. Helping me to rediscover my value. Helping me to look inside myself for approval.

It's been a tough road, but at the same time, a very enlightening one as well.

Yesterday he gave me an assignment of sorts. At the end of each day, I am to write down one way in which I excelled. One way in which I feel my light was shining bright.

This is not an easy assignment for me. But I'm gonna do it. Because I know in my heart that I need it. It's not bragging to look for the good things about myself.  It's not self-absorbed to want to be special or unique. It's human nature. I've been denying myself the encouragement that I easily give to others. It's not fair for me to look outside for validation. Not fair for the person I'm expecting it from and not fair to myself. I have to give to myself.

I deserve it. I always have.

So I will listen to my friend. I will do my assignment. Like those sun flares surrounding me in the photo above. I will find the ways in which my light can be seen. From every angle. In the brightest of daylight to the darkest of night. I will find them.

I'm ready to let myself Shine.