Part 4: Health
General
"If you feel like everyone hates you: sleep.
If you feel like you hate everyone: eat.
If you feel like you hate yourself: take a shower."
- No idea, just a cute comic I once found online
Alright... let's do this: Health.
I think it would be helpful to start with the idea of health and how it relates to how we are expected to take care of ourselves as God's creatures. I think it can be easy to neglect ourselves by pouring into people or things in our lives, and assume that there is no issue with this. I am guilty of it, certainly, and I come from a long line of people who have been the same way, one way or another. The problem is that we are limited beings that have needs that must be met if we are to be able to serve or do what we love or value, and even without utility, we have value to God. I think it can be easy to have a mindset that makes us believe that our value comes from the utility we have to others, that we learn and have reinforced when we are praised for all we can give without asking for anything in return. But again, we have value even without utility, for being who we are-- for our thoughts, feelings and.. I don't know.. just being. Even in a human way, besides God's design, I think we can agree that some people... Ah, some people, dearest reader, I am just happy they exist. Have you ever felt this way? That even if someone was not seemingly needed, they were still wanted, and delighted in, for their presence and just being exactly who they are?
But I digress... If we really do believe that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, then looking after ourselves isn't vanity, but a potential form of reverence. Every nap, every meal, every deep breath can be its own small act of worship. That said, my own experience learning to take care of myself has been an uphill battle since I left the house at seventeen and realised that there were some habits I had learned that were less than helpful, and in many ways there were enormous gaps in all sorts of health-facets in my life simply from lack of precedent, generally. And I'm not mad or blaming anyone, I'm just saying I didn't learn some things. Like how kittens learn to clean themselves by being cleaned by their mothers, but if they're taken away too soon, they can be little basket cases. I was not a basket case, exactly, but the world outside was very... different, and I think that what got me through everything has always been simply being able to pull things together out of... I would say, creativity and determination that combined, to make for an idiosyncratic resourcefulness... whilst trying to learn new skills that were much more secure. I feel like I have finally gotten myself to this place, although I confess that I am still neglectful of dusting, and I could cook more meals rather than eating the ingredients.
Anyway, one thing that I found very helpful early on was not trying to dive in entirely to what seemed to be overwhelming, but to break apart what aspects of myself might need tending to, in order to take them on individually-- not beating myself for not having everything right, but trying to weave my way toward something better. Those categories are:
Physical Health - Food, hygiene, and exercise, primarily, but also properly caring for any personal conditions, and of course my menstrual cycle, which has always taken me for a ride. I'll keep that part short.
Mental Health - I would separate this from emotional health because my heart seems to need its own category. I find that if my mind is well but my heart isn't, I can soldier on, but not vice versa, and they need separate sorts of care, rest, and stimulation.
Emotional Health - My darned feelings... Of which I have many, and experience them deeply. This is also the seat of my creative energy though, so for this reason, too, it warrants its own category.
Spiritual Health - Again, this is going to have its own page, too.
So... I suppose what I would personally like to pass on, for anyone else who is struggling, is that sometimes just asking "which of these things is making me the most tired?" has been incredibly helpful. Then you can figure out what they are hungry for, rather than trying to please four children in a trenchcoat who are all screaming for something different. If I could "rank" them by priority, as far as keeping them in order, I'd probably say Spirit - Mind - Body - Heart. Why that order? Because that's how you function when things are broken, that's why. It's not my preferred order, certainly, and often for me it might look something like Heart - Spirit - Mind - Body, but that's because I have moments of exquisite madness that I would not recommend to anyone that likes "stability". Haha. But really, though, let's work with the survival triage and see where it takes us.
Are you ready to get healthy?? Woo!!
Spiritual
This entry was written last, to maintain the actual order I'd earlier stated, and so the rest of the entries have also been written and posted in sequence. Happy Thanksgiving! Perhaps you will not have time to read today... Whatever the case, I hope that you enjoy yourself with whatever fills it. Binge or savour the onslaught of one-sided personal exposures at your leisure, but let's "begin":
Spiritual Health:
What is "Health"? Generally, I would associate it with a sort of state of wholeness and harmony in a way that is not compromising, but grounded in a state of intended being, and truth. In honesty, I think that there are far too many ways of going astray from God even with our best intentions, when we get caught up in religiosity and ritual. I mean, it makes sense, since one has to look at even creatures like cats to realise that certain behaviours can be reinforced by the receipt of desired results. Therefore, if one day someone was standing on one leg when they heard from God, what does it hurt to get the congregation to stand on one leg to show their own receptive postures in the future? When working with the invisible, this sort of pseudo-science seems to be all we can work with sometimes, in an all-too-human way.
And so, if I don't wake up with the KJV Lord's Prayer in my mouth, say grace, acknowledge the Hours, etc, am I failing? I don't think so. But, I also don't think that it's an excuse for not taking initiative to make sure one is doing things to maintain and strengthen one's relationship with God in our own ways. Like any relationship, I think there is a measure of ritual that provides safety and space for intimacy that complete randomness does not. I cannot entirely tell what it is like for others, but personally I can be really thrown if someone starts to act differently. Whether it's good morning and good evening texts, frequency of minor gestures, kisses before leaving the house, and/or hugs upon return, or just a change in tone or expression, I will notice. I notice tonnes of things, to the extent that sometimes I ask questions I already know the answer to, just to get another person's consent to the knowledge about them I already have. I am not patting myself on the back or joking. But at the same time, I am a limited creature, with blind spots and biases that an almighty God does not have. And so when I am not saying good morning and goodnight, inviting God into my moments, or I'm upset about something I don't talk about openly, it's beyond foolish to assume that these things are not noticed and noted. I also understand how disappointing it can be when God is saying "Theozete, why are you crying?" and I say, "I'm fine."
I've expressed that I don't do enough readings, and part of that is because I don't have a lot of scripture that are familiar enough that I don't get stuck on details and suddenly want to go down rabbitholes a few sentences in. For this reason I find the Psalms my general go-to, upon recommendation but also because the more frequent use of symbols is easier for me to immediately understand, without the need to immediately unpack various details about the historic context. Parables are also a favourite.
But how to really keep this area healthy and alive? That is the question. And I think the answer, when I start to feel spiritually depleted, is to listen to music, get outside into nature if you can, or just put your feet in the grass. I crutch on music sometimes... of which my interests are vastly varied, and I have a flavour for every mood-- sometimes sympathetic, sometimes it's a hand that pulls you out of the mire. I don't often "do art" to feel better, it's actually a result of my feeling positive or inspired, however I do enjoy looking at art, especially icons and pre-Raphaelite or neo-classical paintings. I'm not one for abstract art, generally, but I also like art-nouveau and I'm blown away currently by an artist in Montreal whose art is way too expensive for me but I just want to eat. I also love to design or fix things, to be honest. Fixing and creating things with my hands can be such a balm. Other than that, there's always a wide world waiting for me in my head, but I have to tie a rope around my waist, first.
So... All that said, perhaps "spiritual health" about rhythm. A pattern of breath, stillness, motion. When we are doing it right, the soul stirs, the open heart listens, and the mind follows, as we give space for God to speak.
Mental
"I am sending you out like sheep among wolves.
Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves."
- Matthew 10:16
First, let me say, that despite my embrace of my own eccentricities, and what seems like having had to build myself up like an alien dropped on another planet, I do not have any actual mental disorders. I have been depressed, but if you had been there, you would have been too. No, I feel good about my mind, and how it works. It's complex in many ways, and I only allow for madness so that I can keep my naive idealism where the world would take it away. My mind has been my shield for much of my life, and I have said at times that my brain is my favourite part of my body. It had to take a back seat for a bit while I got a handle on raising the rest to par, but generally it's still bossy. It's always running around the rest of me like an oiled-up muscle-man on a beach, wanting to flex and play volleyball or something while the rest of us in the trenchcoat just want to sit in the shade and watch the waves come in (the heart is unbothered, writing a poem about it, of course, and the body is asking why we can't have more ice-cream, while the soul just tells us to marvel at God's vast creation and be still). And yet, there are still some areas of naivete that only become apparent when I interact with other people and in the same way as when I was six years old, says, "Why are you like this, and not logical?"
That said, I have/had long suffered from a strange condition that makes me feel, at all times, like the "average" person, with everyone I consider "above" me to be granted godlike status, and everyone I perceive as "below" me to be defective in some manner. I have made strides in this area, thankfully, now understanding that everyone has a different enough shape and an equal status under God, that makes such arbitrary and subjective perceptions moot, and by extension, makes other people more interesting to me, because I'm not making assumptions on what their soul's shape is in relation to my own, and they become... a shape to be explored.
I read because I like information and head-adventures, not because I like reading; in fact I am rather slow at it, hitting only about 30 pages per hour, if I can sit for that long. This makes my studying difficult, at times, but I break it up with listening, which I'd much rather be doing because I am completely comfortable with listening for hours and hours (despite how much I can talk when comfortable... it is a form of intimacy, and a compliment, I swear) while I do other things, with decent retention (although I would say that my listening retention is closer to 60% rather than the 75-80% that I feel I get when I actually read, so there are trade-offs. I have a bit of a talent for remembering stories and being able to recount them fully for a very long time, but not verbatim. I remember song lyrics and tunes similarly. This is an asset.
When I get tired, in cases like graduate school where I have finally had to pay attention, I find that the easiest way to train and rest my brain is to balance stimulation with relaxation, just like one would with any muscle. And it's not a binge-purge, because I dislike memorizing things. I like to digest and internalize them, instead. This is why retention is higher, but fidelity is low. Once I understand a pattern, I've got it, but abstract things don't stick. Writing, on the other hand, is like breathing out-- not vomiting or forgetting, but taking all the patterns and weaving them out into a tapestry that... defrags my thoughts and makes room for more... And this entry would be incomplete if I didn't mention how borderline- (or perhaps actually-) erotic it can be to have one's mind expanded in such a way, or to be bested, or to feel touched by the thoughts of another, either across from you, or somewhere across time, revealing a truth about... anything, in a way that feels like being serenaded.
Anyway, the more often these patterns are repeated, the more space seems to be made. Did I think I could start learning languages in my late 30s? No. I thought my prospects for being a thinking human were going to be over in my mid-20s, like they always say they are, but it's not like that at all. Taking care of the mind is about what you feed it, use it for, and how daring you are at trying to expand it in new ways, regardless of how old you are. I think that the perception that things slow down at certain times is because of the average life-cycle pattern that would have contributed to the sample group when this sort of data was being compiled. I've always made jokes that I would love to go to school for the rest of my life, and if I have my way, it will be the case.
God, let our minds stay sharp, but open and humble enough to marvel. Let us reason without losing reverence, and give ourselves permission to think, but still believe.
Physical
My new doctor told me I need to lose about 15lbs. Honestly, that's fine. I don't mind being a bit squishier, because a bit in moderation makes for better hugs, in my opinion. However, I don't want to put myself at risk for any long-term health conditions so I am going to do as she says.
Physical Health seems to have four components -- Body mechanics, hygiene, food intake, and adjustments against disease (which I don't feel the need to write about at this time). And when I saw it like that it sounds like this entry is going to be crazy long... But I'm not going to go into too much detail in some places, and I think at this point we can agree that we have a responsibility to our bodies, so let's just do the assessment! Generally, I am happy with where I am sitting, and it's all a slow learning process but there is forward motion. People think I'm in denial when I say this, but I feel so much better now than I ever did in my twenties. I don't feel any different than I did when I was in my teens. In fact, I probably feel better, because I remember feeling so self-conscious over everything, like the size of my ears, the bone in my nose, and all the other things teens care about that don't matter but are also somehow the end of the world. Even still, I have come to love my body even since then-- knowing it so much better, feelings its ins and outs, and even coming to appreciate my old surgical scar, which has aged and healed well, to the extent that I hardly remember or care what it was like to live without it. It is a gift to feel this way.
But let's get on with it:
Mechanics: Besides the fact that of my squishiness, I am in good shape for what I need to do, and everything appears to be in working order. For this, I am incredibly thankful and in awe. I've recently decided to give biking another shot, however, owing to the irritated trudging home I've had to do so many times the past two months, on account of the abysmal traffic and public transit in my area. Full, cancelled, ghosted, standing-room only-- No thank you. Besides the fact that you're playing plague-roulette with each ride. Generally, it takes me about forty minutes to walk home, but there is a really nice bike trail where Google says I can get home in fifteen minutes. Now... I am a solid walker, and Google is usually right about my walking arrival times. However, Google doesn't know I'm just a bike owner, and not a real cyclist, so we can still double that time. (Is it related to my mind singing "Daisy, daisy..." whenever I start pedalling? I don't know). However, it's still down a beautiful nature path where I can hardly hear anything but birds and leaves, it's helping me get a little healthier, and I'm in control of my arrival times, so I am considering this a win so far. I should be able to ride well into the colder months here, too, since they're so mild.
Because of my switch from manual labour to being a full-time student, my body went through some changes last year, but something I have noticed is that I haven't really lost much of my strength, as I'd previously assumed, as much as I'd lost my endurance. Since purchasing an elliptical and starting to have more things to leave the house for, this seems to have returned to normal, and it is my hope that the cycling will help, too. I've never been a person who has remotely enjoyed any sort of physical activity that was not just part of my daily activities. Ie, I will shovel all day to plant some trees until I'm scratched, sweaty, and caked in dirt, and I'll be happy as a clam; but I will become grumpy after fifteen minutes if I am put on a treadmill. There is actually a joy I feel being able to use my body to its fullest, otherwise, but I almost need to be tricked into doing it. I like feeling strong, capable, and nimble, because it is an important skill for climbing over rocks and trees. Do I climb over rocks and trees? No, not generally, but I don't want to be caught unawares if the situation called for it. How embarrassing!
Hygiene: You don't need to hear about this, but it's not very complex. I've managed to find soap I like, and the main thing is that I like the smell, I feel clean after, and it doesn't make me itchy. I found out I enjoy cleaning my ears, and I like brushing my hair. Why did I take so long to figure this out? Because I had so many ear infections as a child that I didn't any anything near them, and it was simply not a habit in my household for anyone but my dad. I hardly brushed my hair as a child, and if I had a shower (which happened once a week because our well was always short on water) my mom would braid it for me. Then when I left the house I ended up cutting it short, for various reasons, and it's only in the past few years that I've started to grow and appreciate it. I'm curious to see how long it can go... but keeping it off my floor and out of my laundry (I have this one pair of socks that is like a magnet...) has been a new adventure! I have a hairpin that I love because it's made of sandalwood and it's saved me tonnes of effort in tracking down or purchasing elastics, besides that fact that it smells really nice and I think it's stylish.
I recently upgraded to an electric toothbrush, which I use as a regular toothbrush about half the time if I don't feel like vibrating my face in the morning, but I find that it does do quite a good job. Before I got braces it was so impossible to keep them clean that I hardly tried, but oddly never had issues with cavities. My teeth were so out of shape that the dentist told me that if I had not gotten the orthodontics when I did, that I would have had my front teeth pushed out entirely. And this is a good place to say... As someone who had years of cystic acne that a dermatologist called "horrific", misaligned teeth, and general low self-esteem as a result of various life factors, I want to say to anyone who needs to hear it, that no one can define who you are inside but you, but that doesn't mean that it's not painful or that it doesn't take its toll on you when people have a twist of pity when you smile at them. In combination with my own later loss of self, unrelated to how I looked, looking in the mirror and not recognising yourself is one of the most... retrospectively devastating things, even if at the time you feel dead inside.
But in my case, I consider myself lucky to say these things, because they are in the past now. Nowadays I feel... like I am exactly who I need to be, even though I can sometimes be self-conscious about my scarring, which is blessedly minimal considering how much damage had been done earlier on. I can look in the mirror now and see a woman who takes care of herself, has all her intended teeth, with clothes that fit, aren't falling apart, are in her style, and hair in its natural colour and state, that I can do whatever I want with. I don't know how this sounds to anyone else but it's powerful, for me.
....
I'm going to stop here, for a bit.
Something I neglected to say about hygiene was about space... And I confess that I don't know what to say to someone who does not keep their space clean, but I am assuming, based on my observations of others and extrapolations on extremes of my own behaviour, that people who do not keep their spaces clean are not feeling well in the inside. Personally, my own space is linked in cleanliness and tidiness to my own inner world. If I am overwhelmed, it is untidy. If I am sad, it is dirty. I have rarely, if ever, had the luxury of having anyone to clean up for me in my adult life, so I couldn't really say what it would be like mentally to have some help in this regard when those bowls are piling up and shower needs a deep clean. (Which reminds me...) However, I feel strongly that somehow procuring help in cleaning the outer world would be a great step in allowing one's inner world to breathe. Unfortunately, if we are far gone enough, it is a one-way chicken-egg situation that may need intervention. That's why I like to keep on top of things, if I can. I have a low threshold for clutter and chaos, but dirt can really sneak up on me. Even still, I have been through enough ups and downs to know that cleaning my bathroom will actually help me feel like more of a human being, and putting my books away to clear off my desk will make me feel like I have a fresh start at my tasks.
At the current time, my landlords have a shared dishwasher, which is great, because dishes are the bane of my domestic existence. I have little doubts in my abilities to manage a household, but they are like kryptonite. And it's funny because it was my grandmother's absolute favourite thing, where she would put on her favourite show on a tiny tv, or whistle and sing to herself all the while. "Bring your dish here!" she would say, happily, when the same delayed delivery of an unsuspected dish may get your the death stare from me-- delaying my freedom from the sink by a precious moment. But you know what I do like? Folding laundry. Especially hot laundry after flopping into it for just a moment to enjoy the waves-- like what you first open an oven when you're baking. Ha!
...
Obviously my brain is just very excited to be awake today. Here are the last points of contact I can think of at this time:
Food Intake: I would say, early last year, about, when I actually reached out to a nutritionist to help me get myself on track, I realised that part of the reason I wasn't eating well wasn't just because I wasn't sure how to move out of the mashed-potatoes, steak, steamed carrots combos, but because I don't like cooking for myself... because... reasons. I equated food with care, and love, and so obviously, when I felt unloved, I would eat more comfort food, and when I was feeling fine, I just wouldn't eat much at all. I was at the whims of cravings and hormones, too, where one week I might eat myself out of house and home, and two weeks later have very different priorities. I also had/have periods where my mouth can become obsessed with a particular food, then get tired of it after it is over-indulged. Currently it is green olives. Haha. But after we worked together and I realised what I had been doing, and why, things have been better. I'm still not cooking meals, admittedly, but I am at least snacking on whole foods rather than junk, and my hormonal fluxes have been better since I have laid off the dairy except in moderation. My cravings for sugary foods lessen as I eat more regularly, and it takes about two weeks, but I generally don't crave them at all. The tyrant that once was chocolate has been slain with occasional magnesium bisglycinate (recommended by a doctor), which additionally helps with stress and sleep.
I actually enjoy baking a lot. If I had a full kitchen that I didn't share with four other people, I imagine I would spend more time in it. But even if that weren't the case, I only get really inspired when I am cooking for others. I'm not a chef, but I can make good food. It was always an aspiration of mine because I wanted my children to have good food. It is nothing to me to spend hours on a dish if I can give it to someone to let them know I care. I also enjoy food a lot myself (haha, that makes it sound like I'm a lot more than fifteen pounds over), for its seasonality, for its colours, and smells, and textures. I associate it with seasonal feasts and family gatherings, and my mom and grandmother were both bakers, so I grew up with it being a source of pride. It is something I enjoy sharing and makes me feel closer to the people I share it with, as well as the place where I eat it. Communion, obviously, is one of my favourite parts of church, although I think it should be a lot more like a supper than a ritual. Trying to achieve this alone is difficult... but not an excuse. So I will keep trying.
Emotional
Do you remember when windows skins and website customization had gone totally out of control somewhere in the late 90s when you could change nearly everything about your computer interface, complete with custom cursors, click sounds, and boot-ups songs? And those old webpages made with love with the grainy, repeated tiles in the back, a midi file playing in some mysterious spot, and probably some gif of a torch or something? Spinning word art? Well, dearest reader, rest assured that this is such a domain, in spirit. Within the realm of the heart, our own little Edens, all things are possible, but the real challenge when we come out into God's world, is the discernment of "Yes, we can, but... but should we?"
I feel like this place can be the most breathtaking landscape on one side, with a scrap yard just over the hill for anything you could possibly dredge up on the other, but that is not really the case. The scrap yard is the mind, but the heart doesn't remember details like that. The heart only remembers feelings and patterns. The heart is like, a trusty companion animal that is expressive and wants to love, but also knows when to growl, and may need to be kept on a leash, at times. Did I say it was a small companion animal though? Oh no... no, no. I would liken it to... a trusty wolf the size of a polar bear. The saving feature, in my case, is that it is fiercely devoted to my own best interests, and whatever I am devoted to (by pure coincidence).
So where is God in this? This is the question. And I won't lie... This is both the most Godly and godless crux of my being. God never says anything about our hearts the way we do today, except that He is near to the brokenhearted. But God does want our hearts, as in to be at the seat of our being. And so... Is this the seat of my being? A place of raw, elemental experience? A place God shapes as He did the earth and sky? I think so... And I think that, our job here it to keep it open to that continued shaping.
I can't speak for anyone else, but I just need to cry sometimes. I'm not a violent person, or a loud person, so yelling and punching things doesn't really satisfy me. I have screamed before, but it was more of a response to pain than a deliberate outlet. But it seems necessary because (if I could keep using analogies, since only those work here), it seems that the vessel of our being cannot be open to God if it is full of something else. Residual pain, carried hurts. But when trusted, God can help us let it all out, or pick it up for us, when it becomes too heavy, so that the landscape below the flood can be experienced and celebrated, for all its forests, rolling hills, and sparkling waters. But it can be really hard because opening up always hurts. I remember the very first time I did it, and it felt like I had to stab myself in the heart and pull the knife to the side, to let the blood spill out. And then I just kept bleeding and bleeding. That was a very long time ago now, but it has been easier since, because I know what peace lies on the other side.
My only regrets about my feelings are less when I accidentally express them, and more when I cannot express them fully. Nowadays the only reason I would allow that is because it might hurt someone else if I did. I don't know where the healthy line is for this, so I am still prone to suffering in silence... Less so if I have been angry, or restrained a harsh tongue, but more like... When I want to give or receive love where it is socially unacceptable. Or when I am wondering if someone thinks of me, or misses me, but not wanting them to be as broken as I am by their absence, in turn. Or not reaching out even when I want to. And in those moments there is no one to save me from myself. Just business, prayer, and hope in surprises.
I could easily enjoy getting drunk on my own emotions at this point, and depending on the emotion, I occasionally indulge, but I do have a good handle on them and I feel safe in myself, finally. But I would also liken it to an enormous reservoir that needs an outlet, or else it will overflow in weird areas. Generally, my job is providing outlets, usually in the form of creative writing. Sometimes if my emotions are too intense, I will not be able to use them, though, which means that whether I am emotionally bereft, or overflowing, the creative result is the same. A sweet spot seems to be able to be reached generally only after I have done something else to let off steam.
