Jenn's
Corner on
Payson Road
A spiritual place for
healing. Great stories,
articles, inspirations and lots more.
Jennifer Campbell is the Director
of the Mind Body Program on Payson Road
Jenn's Bio
Jennifer Campbell is a massage
therapist, Reiki Master, and Yoga instructor living and working in a seaside
town south of Boston. Having struggled with both anorexia and bulimia,
Jennifer has reconnected with her True Self and is now successfully in recovery.
She credits alternative therapies and mind/body integration as having played an
important part in her healing process.
Knowing she will never be a 9 to 5 kind
of girl, Jennifer has learned to embrace her free spirit and has allowed
creativity to be a driving force in her life. Jennifer believes in the
innate wisdom people posses within themselves to heal, and she continues to work
to help others connect with and access that wisdom.
A firm believer in the mind body connection, Jennifer approaches her life and
work with a holistic perspective.
A dancer at heart, she finds peace in the power of movement.
As a writer, Jennifer finds an avenue for self-expression and a new way
to connect with people.
As
the Director of Payson Road's Mind and Body section, Jennifer Campbell brings an
exciting new dimension to the site and Payson Road's progress recovery program.
She also graces the pages with her touching stories.
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I lay on the table
wondering what I had gotten myself into. There
was a gentle knock on the door as a soft voice called from outside the room
“all set, Jenn?” Gina walked
in, turned up the music just a bit and began to work.
My body immediately tensed up as Gina placed her hands on my back.
The warm oil was very comforting, although I tried not to notice.
Part of me wanted to jump up and run out of the room.
I didn’t deserve this kind of relaxation, this kind of nurturing.
This body of mine was too disgusting to be touched.
I was so full of fear.
That was my first
experience with massage, almost three years ago.
I have come a long way since then, and I actually have massage to thank
for that. The knowledge I have gained about myself, though the hands of Gina (my
massage therapist) is something that I cherish.
The gentle reawakening of my spirit and the newly found power that has
emerged from somewhere deep inside is almost surprising to me.
I would never have guessed that I would have made it through the dark
world of anorexia and bulimia.
Massage was not a cure
for me. It was not the “magic
pill” that so many of us look for. What massage did for me, however, was
slowly reintroduce me to the body that I had disregarded and in doing that,
allowed me to connect to the emotions and feelings that I had tried to starve
and purge away. The gradual process
of this reconnection was what made the difference.
I remember, after having been receiving regular massages for a few
months, I was laying on the table trying to quiet my thoughts, when all of a
sudden I was filled with sadness and my eyes began to cloud with tears.
What the hell was going on? After
the massage was over, I asked Gina why I had gotten so emotional.
“We hold so much in our bodies,” She said.
“Sometimes it isn’t until we are able to let go and relax that our
bodies feel able to release some of that stored emotion.
It was time for those tears to come out.
You were ready to let go of that sadness.
Remember that nothing will happen before you are ready.
You were ready to let go of those tears.”
Massage became my break
from the draining and constant appointments to doctors etc.
It was the one place I didn’t have to speak, didn’t have to discuss,
or analyze or try to explain. It became a place, the only place for that matter, where I
could allow myself to relax, and to begin to try to quiet the noise in my head.
Over these past years I have began to learn to trust this body that I,
for so long, was at war with. I
have been able to begin to allow myself the opportunity to be cared for and
nurtured without guilt. This has
been a long journey and I’m sure I will still have a ways to travel, but I
have been able to find a sense of peace that I had thought was lost forever.
I have been able to get in touch with myself in a way I never thought
possible, not in the traditional way of words and speech, but through the gentle
power of touch.
Here I am, a couple
years down the road, and for the first time in my life feeling at peace with
myself. Amazingly enough that first
massage, was one of the first steps to finding that peace.
It is funny how our past paves our future.
I would never have thought that I would be where I am today.
Having dropped out of high school, not gone to college, missing out on
what some consider being the best years of one’s life.
I should probably be unhappy, unfulfilled and ignorant.
I am however quite the contrary. I
have learned the most valuable information there is in life.
I have learned who I am; who I truly am. I learned more about myself in
these past years than a lifetime of school could have ever taught me.
If I hadn’t gotten my eating disorder, I would never have gotten so
sick I had to leave school. I would
never have dealt with the pain I had kept hidden away.
I would never have started this amazing journey of self-discovery. I would probably have never realized that my soul was
starving and that the life I was leading was keeping me from connecting to who I
really was.
I have found a
career I love, as a massage therapist. Would I have chosen that if my life hadn’t fallen apart?
Probably not. I would have done the “right thing.” I would have graduated high school, gone to college.
I would have followed the “norm”, been the good obedient girl.
Instead, I have been able to stop, to have a chance to really look inside
myself and find where my heart is, what my passions are, and follow them. How many young adults can say that?
So, my life has not been that traditional, but I would not change any of it.
I have been given a gift, that unfortunately so few ever get.
I have been given the gift of knowing who I am, really knowing
who I am and being able to honor that completely.
Articles and Stories
Letting Yoga Help You Fight for Your Body, Not Against It
I am grateful today. Looking back through old journals, reading the words of a sad and overwhelmed young girl brought tears to my eyes. I lost myself, or so I thought, for many years, hidden beneath the cloud of my eating disorder. But I am grateful now, for what I realized is that underneath that cloud of anorexia and bulimia was a girl, not lost, but desperately trying to live.
That is really what eating disorders are. They are a persons attempt to live in a world that does not fit there sensitive spirit. Eating disorders are an attempt to feel when feelings seem too much. They are an attempt to speak when words have become choked. They are an attempt to cope.
We fight against ourselves, beating ourselves up, feeling somehow less than, or crazy, for our secret coping device. What we do not see is the sheer strength of spirit we have at our core, the souls continuous force pulling us towards life. Recovery and growth are not about fighting to be free from those parts of one's self that seem negative. It is about understanding where those parts came from, how they served to teach us, how to learn from them, and most importantly when to let them go.
In yoga you learn to stop fighting against your body. You learn to stop forcing it into a posture. You learn simply to guide your body with gentleness into the pose. You learn to observe and be respectful of your body's edge, to make room for the discomfort of a deep stretch as your body emerges from its rigidity and opens into subtle form. You learn to let your breath soften you as you listen with intensity to the subtle message your body gives you. Yoga is about opening and expanding to allow all of yourself to be acceptable.
The same philosophy applies to recovery. Do not fight against yourself, those parts of you that you created to cope, to live. Instead look to understand their purpose, seek to acknowledge how they have served you and what they have taught you. See yourself as the teacher and the student.
And most importantly be willing to say thank you
with love and acceptance, but then let go...release...and let yourself come out
from behind the cloud and live!
I was driving in the car the other day
when I heard the song “no more drama” by Mary J. Blige. I turned up
the song as loud as I could and was dancing and singing, I’m sure every car
around must have thought I was insane. But that song expressed so
perfectly my recent feelings. We spend way too much time caught up in
drama!!! We place all of our energy, all of our thoughts, into drama and
unnecessary pain and/or worry.
I know this too well as I spent many years thriving on the drama surrounding my
life. It surrounds us all if we choose to look for it. I would
search for situations that could keep my energy focused on drama instead of what
I should have been focused on, myself. Sporting my martyr cloak, I would
lose so much of myself in all the drama. I spent years as a “caretaker”
trying to help others with the pain or woes in their life. Granted
initially, my interest in others came from of place of true love and concern to
be of service. I found in the end, it was the drama that sparked my
attentions. Because it was such an easy escape. It took me away from
myself and my own issues. It gave me an excuse to take the focus off of me
and made me feel needed.
That feeling of being needed filled an emptiness I never realize I had.
Suddenly I had worth - an outside force that I depended on for
self-esteem. It was exhausting, unfulfilling, draining, and before I knew
it I had become a shadow. I jumped from person to person getting high off the
adrenaline each new drama created. Never suspecting my constant hunger for
drama was an attempt to avoid my own pain. I was hiding from the
world. But I I came out of my shell and looking back now I can see how
much time I wasted.
Think of the energy you spend each day on sustaining drama in your life.
Think of the amount of energy and focus you place on others problems, petty
arguments and gossip. We as a society are surrounded by drama from soap
operas to primetime TV, to work place tension, to family disagreements.
Our life is surrounded by it and we, as Americans, are for the most part unaware
of it. For many of us, to stop, to take our focus and turn it inward, to
ourselves, to our own unresolved fear and pain, insecurities and unmet dreams
and desires would be too fearful, to intimate, to real. Why look at
ourselves when we can watch All My Children, Survivor, or hell, CNN?
What if you were to step back and decide you would not participate in all
this superficial drama but instead look inward toward your own
needs?
For those of you who are like me, who once placed their value in “helping”
others, I ask you to really ask yourself, Am I really helping?
If you find that you attract needy people with constant issues, or you need the
adrenaline that comes when a friend calls in crisis to feel worthy.
If you find at the end of the day you feel drained and overwhelmed, that is not
true “helping.” True help, as I have come to realize, is about staying
objective, offering love and support. But not carrying the burden of
others. Let others be responsible for themselves. Everyone has the
strength within them to be responsible for themselves. It's up to each one
of us whether we choose to take on that responsibility.
What if you were to take all the energy you currently invest in the drama
surrounding you into your dreams, goals, and personal growth. Don’t you
think that would be energy better spent? Why place your energy in places
where it is not needed? Do you really need to waste time with “he
said, she said”? Do you really need play referee with arguing
co-workers?
To get lost in the drama is to waste the life God as given you. Use your
energy to create, to love, to express, to heal yourself, to grow, to learn, to
live your fullest.
It took me a long time to see that my eating disorder was another form of drama,
another distraction, albeit a very painful one. I put all my energy into
food, purging, starving, weight and my body. I became addicted to
the distraction that my eating disorder offered me from the pain and fears that
resided underneath it all.
Thinking back on the years I wasted, I realize how disconnected from myself I
was. I was lost in other people's pain and then in my own eating disorder
all in an attempt to hide from
myself.
It is only now in recovery that I have
begun to finally see all the layers and depth inside me. I have I realized
that until I heal myself, until I face the darkness inside that I am most afraid
of, until I stop running and say “no more drama!” can I finally live as a
fully present person. Able to experience life and to relate
with others in a healthy, fulfilling and balanced way. Now I am able to
put my energy into living my dreams, into loving with my whole heart, seeing
clearly what’s worth focusing on and what I need to let go.
What would happen if we lived as
Goddesses, if we were honored and revered for our wisdom and inner power?
What if our full breast and round hips and soft strong bodies were looked at as
the masterpieces that they are? What if our sensuality was not our downfall, our
voices not silenced, our identity not splintered and disconnected? What if we
were fully embodied women, sensual and intelligent, feminine and strong,
nurturing and self-confident.
This image does not have to be a fantasy. We have a choice as women to
claim every aspect of who we are. Yes we can dress feminine, paint our
nails, and where perfume and still be strong minded, voice our opinions and run
a corporation. In a society that encourages woman to have to choose either ones
femininity or their ability to be an “equal” in the work place, or in
society for that matter, it can be hard to feel safe embodying and expressing
ALL parts of one self. We as women seem to feel we need to hide, ignore or
punish parts of who we are to fit into a mold.
I have always been very comfortable being “girly.” Since I was little
I have loved anything feminine, anything of beauty, anything sensual and soft.
One reason I started dancing was because I thought ballerinas where the most
feminine things on the planet. I was comfortable and felt safe being the sweet
little girl that I was and therefore those qualities were encouraged by outside
forces. I became the nurturing, soft spoken and shy girl in public and carried
that with me throughout my life. It has only been in recent years that I have
started to see that that is NOT what femininity is about. To be just that is to
be incomplete. I have had to learn to be assertive, to speak my truth, to be
grounded, to say no when I need to, to be loud if I want and not ashamed or
embarrassed...I have had to learn to be seen completely. I have finally been
able to embrace my independence and my free spirit, as well as my strong opinion
and firm beliefs while still holding on to those parts of me that are nurturing
and gentle.
Is the world ready for women to finally become their most authentic embodied
selves? Who cares if the world is ready or not. It is not up to society to let
us know that we can come out of our shells and stop hiding the goddesses that we
are, to wait for approval is to continue to turn to outside forces to feel
worthy or empowered. There is always fear in being completely authentic after
years of wearing a mask. But we were born complete. We were born as
whole beautiful beings and we all have the strength to walk through the fear to
returning to who we were born to be.
I work daily, trying to find balance in who I am, reveling in my “girliness”,
becoming reacquainted with the once silenced voice that resides within. I know
it is up to me to reclaim what I once tried to ignore, to collect all of my
gifts, all of my traits and subtle ways, and blend them together giving each one
a place to shine. I have to sit in stillness to hear what my heart is saying, I
have to move and dance and laugh to feel the wonders of my physical body, I have
to cry and yell and shake to experience the intensity of living and of emotion.
Above all I have to trust that I have always been whole, always been complete,
always been a goddesses, and all I need to do is to see her and let her
speak.
How many times have you been in the dressing room
and heard the giggles of adolescent girls as they gossip and gab about school
and boys and "he said, she said." How sad that included in this
conversation is "my Butt is way too big." "I think I'm gonna go
on a diet." " I'm so fat." Little girls age nine and ten are
counting calories and drinking diet soda. My heart aches and my anger starts to
surface as wonder if they too will walk down the road of self-loathing.
To say that vanity, and needing attention, and the media's encouragement of
thinness, is the root of eating
disorders is to trivialize a deep seeded and deeply
penetrating anguish. A person does not force himself or herself to vomit, to
starve to bony appearance, and exercise to collapse because of an actresses.
These physical symptoms which have become a cultural norm in our society aren't
even the real problem. As anyone who has ever dealt with an addiction will tell
you, the symptoms, whatever it may be, are just the tip of the iceberg. Beneath
the "unhealthy behavior" lies a darkness that can feel bottomless.
Sound dramatic? Sound familiar?
As a former queen of denial, there was a time when the thought of my "weird eating problems" being anything deeper than a dislike of my thighs, sounded crazy. There does come a time, however, when what was once a "surface" issue becomes an all-consuming dis-ease.
So, how do we begin to get the word out that ED's are more than just wanting to be skinny or a "girl problem?" By acknowledging ourselves the deep rooted anchor they have within us. Only by going within, taking responsibility, and doing the work, can we then be an example to others.
Many people talk about how they don't feel like a "good" bulimic or a "good" anorexic. "I don't purge x amount of times so I'm not that bad or "I don't exercise x amount of hours so I'm not that compulsive." To rate ones illness in terms of its symptoms, in the case of an eating disorder, is to keep it at the surface level that society has glamorized it on. Many times I have heard women say. "I'm not sick enough to get help." It brings tears to my eyes to hear that. I have utters those words, as I'm sure many others have. To rate how deserving you are by how "sick" you perceive yourself is to trivialize your pain and the issues that are at the root. Take away the bingeing, the purging the starving, the laxatives and the pain will still be there.
It is time we begin to show by example, to these young girls playing with the illusion of thinness as freedom, that to stop at the physical level of the body and appearance is to cut oneself off. To do so, is to miss out on the beauty that lies with and the opportunity to feel, and experience and heal on a deep and permanent level.
I am continually brought back to my childhood as the weather starts to warm up, the days become longer, and the smell of the ocean air starts to swirl around me. I sat this past weekend curled in a comfy chair near my back sliding door, listening to the rain as it pelted the porch and the roar of thunder as it shook my surroundings. As a little girl I was terrified of thunderstorms. Even the sight of dark cloud would send me into a panic. Summer takes me back to the humid days in Boston as a little girl, running through the sprinklers, sliding down the “Slip and Slide” and those special two weeks each year that my family rented a cottage on the beach. I’m reminded of that Country Time Lemonade commercial. People lounging on the porch, kicking their heels up, letting out a deep sigh and taking a big gulp of cool refreshing lemonade. That is what summer is about, remembering that carefree playfulness of youth.
It’s not about living in the past or not being able to let go of ones childhood. It’s about igniting that free spirit and innocence that summer once represented.
We are bombard by the media as they flash the countdown until bathing suit weather. Sending the world into a crazed mania of paranoia and mad rushes to the gym and fits of rage in women’s’ dressings rooms world wide as women continually criticizes the body that will soon be exposed in the warm summer days. Lost, it seems, are the youthful days of dancing in a rainstorm in your clothes or throwing caution to the wind as you go skinny-dipping on a hot summer night.
To be honest there is just too much “good” about summer to spend time worrying about the trivial and society driven fear of exposed bathing suit clad bodies. Granted we can’t change the world’s mindset over night. I would be lying if I said that I didn’t experience even a small spark of anxiety as I take out the bathing suit that has been tucked away all winter long. But, I feel like rebelling against the norm and actually enjoying the thought of summer approaching.
There is a tall glass of lemonade calling my name and a playful little girl wanting to run through the rain. There is a need to walk along the ocean in the cool summer mornings and feel the hot pavement on my bare feet. There is a need to hear the rumble of thunder on a humid night and feel a bead of sweat trail down my cheek. There is a need to hear the late night song of crickets and smell freshly cut grass and barbecue cooking. There is a need to feel cool water on my flesh and hear the laughter of close friends.
That is what summer is about and I am looking forward to its arrival.
Desire and the Search for Wholeness
There is an interesting concept that I remember
from my childhood in Catholic school and have, since my dive into the study of
yogic philosophy, become reacquainted with. That concept is the idea of being
desire-less and without want. Now, going back to my youth, this concept
was riddled with negativity. I unfortunately clung to this idea of "desirelessness"
and, years later, used it as fuel for my eating disorder. The ideas of
unworthiness and selflessness and one’s needs being a bad thing, where
concepts which I used to punish myself.
Now as I study the old writings of Buddhism and Hinduism and other ancient
texts, I see these same ideas resurfacing. Initially my red flag went up and my
first thought was “Oh no, not again. I can’t keep being told that my needs
are bad. I have worked so hard to let go of all that guilt.” I have allowed
myself, however, the opportunity to drop my old and worn out ways of
understanding what this concept of being desire-free is all about and begin to
find a new understanding of the word.
First and for most, it is not about a person being selfish or greedy for having
needs. No. That is the first myth that must be dispelled. That is not at all
what this idea is suggesting. To be free from desire in this sense, is to become
so full within, so self-full, that one needs nothing, for everything they have
within them is enough. At the base of this idea of "desirelessness",
I have come to realize is that of self-love.
When one desires things it is because on some level that person does not feel
complete. Money, sex, cloths, relationships, material possessions, a thin body,
all of these desires seem to be things that our society is working so hard to
have. I have experienced, with many of the people that I encounter, a deep
feeling of incompleteness that people harbor within. People are searching for
that certain something that will fill them, complete them and make them happy.
In that search for wholeness, people have come to turn to outside forces and
objects and experiences to fill the void they are experiencing.
The idea of "desirelessness", is not so much about not wanting or
needing, it is more about cultivating ones inner being. It is about becoming
content and at peace with who you are, and where you are right now in the
moment. It is about feeling whole as is, just as you are, and having that beauty
and perfection, be enough. It is about listening to your heart, honoring
whatever is there and being true to your essence. When we are living completely
authentically, following our heart, speaking our truth, and experiencing peace,
we will automatically be given all that we need.
Of course we have needs, and to have needs is a healthy and important part of
life. We can not live denying and trying to starve away or purge away our needs.
The focus is not on limiting or denying, but turning our attention within and
naturally allowing ourselves the opportunity to experience wholeness, without
the aid of material worth or possessions. A person’s natural state is
that of abundance. When we live in complete harmony within ourselves and the
world around us, abundance happens naturally. If we live from our heart, there
is never a moment of feeling empty or incomplete.
Each of us is a work in progress, delicately walking on a very personal and
unique path. Look inside yourself now and you will see all the gifts and tools
that you need on this journey. You posses all that you need to heal, to create
and to experience true joy. You are complete and perfect just as you are.
It can be easy to forget in the cold, dark, barren days of winter why New England is such a great place to live. It seems only now, as the snow melts, the birds start to sing, and the day light begins to linger, that I can appreciate and rejoice in the beauty and power of nature and the changing of seasons. As winter melts away and spring begins to bloom, one can’t help but be swept away by it and its promise of growth and rebirth.
As I tune into my body, its needs change as spring begins to emerge. There is a driving urge to cleanse, to let go, “spring cleaning” on all levels, becomes the mission. In winter, our bodies need rest and warming foods, a slowing and hibernation of sorts. In spring however, our body craves light, cleansing, nourishing foods. It craves life and movement and reawakening of the senses.
In terms of recovery, spring is NOT the time to begin worrying or obsessing about the summer season ahead. Spring is a time to truly allow for your body to cleanse what has accumulated through the winter, not just on a physical level, but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. As we all begin to emerge from of cocoon of winter, spring is a valuable time for self-renewal and self-care.
Notice this spring season, what need your body has, what growth it is striving toward, what rebirth is in store. Allow yourself to be consumed by the promise spring represents. A time to heal and bloom and experience the emerald green and rainbow of color that Mother Nature paints for us.
Spring is a wonderful time to let go of things in our life that we have outgrown. Whether it is material things, relationships, jobs, beliefs, or emotions, begin to search through your life and make room for all the abundance that spring produces. By freeing ourselves of that we no longer need, we are saying to the universe. “I am open. I am ready for new things to enter my life.” I am continually amazed at the results as I let go of old things. Before I know it, I find new and truly fulfilling things miraculously entering my life. A coincidence? Not in my opinion. In order to attract what we want in our life, there needs to be room for it. One cannot bring in the “new” when there is still so much “old” weighing us down. So allow yourself the freedom of release and the purity that comes from lovingly letting go of the past.
Spring is a time for abundance and for the spirit
to being to stir as it awakens from its wintry slumber. Greet spring with open
arms, for has gifts to give you if you are ready to accept them. Let the sun
shine on your face and give you the nourishment to grow to its full potential.
Spring has sprung and beauty is underfoot!
My recent trip to California solidified a lot of thoughts for me about recovery. The main thought being: The more you align to your true self, speak your truth and follow your heart, the more your life begins to just almost magically fall into place. My trip out to LA confirmed that I am on the right path. The feelings of contentment and peace that I experienced, as another piece of the pie seemed to fall into place, filled me with a sense of pride and comfort. It wasn’t so much the actually trip in terms of the flight and the day to day stuff. It was more about the underlining significance of it.
I had healed enough that I was able to connect with a wonderful person like Sarah with whom I’ve been able to talk with and work with and have an understanding with. I know if I had not reached this point in my recovery my friendship with Sarah would not be a reality. I know if I had not healed enough in my recovery, if I had not learned to use my voice to speak my truth, my feelings and my words would still be lock inside, eating away at me, preventing me from the self-expression that I have found through writing. If I had not healed enough in my recovery I would be too bound by fear, by my insecurities, my mistrust in life, to venture to the opposite side of the continent to a place I had never been. I would not have felt the strange familiarity and sense of “home “ that I felt in California, which I now know, will have me going back there some day soon.
Life is about our experiences and each experience holds a message or a lesson. My trip to LA held a message stronger than I had anticipated.
“You are on the right path. You can feel peace. You are free.”
Those words and the feelings they produced are very real and very clear. I think I needed my trip not only for the wonderful opportunity it offered me to see my dear friend, Sarah. But also, it confirmed for me what I have been working towards all these years as I have been healing and reconnecting with my True Self. Life can be that which you dream of. The more you honor your spirit and listen to you heart, you will be guided. That is what I learned. The moment you stop fighting against yourself and your soul’s natural inclination to direct you towards your right path your life simply and gently and beautifully begins to fall into place…magically.
I think it is time for the men in the white coats to just come and take me away. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror today after “the deed.” Who the hell am I? I couldn’t even recognize myself...I couldn’t even “see” myself. It was a blur of skin and shadows. I just want to scream…to scream so loud it will shatter my body into pieces. Disgust…pure disgust at this “thing” that I am. Fuck…what am I doing? I hate myself. ”I found this passage in an old journal of mine. I wrote it while in the middle of anorexia and bulimia. I was totally out of touch with reality and with myself. Looking though my old journals I noticed I always ended my entries with “I hate myself.” In one of my scribbled pages I wrote, “I am haunted by my reflection.” So, I decided to confront it. I stood, naked, in front of a full-length mirror and I looked. The gasps of horror can now begin. Yes I know…. What was I thinking, right? Well, after years of running from my reflection, trying to escape my difficult love/hate relationship with the mirror, I knew it was time to just cut the bull and look. So, I did. I dropped the towel and starred. My initial reaction was not what I expected. I cried. Not out of saddens or anguish, but more out of relief. I was relieved that when I looked in the mirror this time, I was able to “see” myself, to know who I was. After the tears, however, came the chatter of voices, babbling the old and oh-so-familiar insults and disapproving remarks. Determined to not let these voices stop me from my mission at hand, I closed my eyes for a moment and gained my composure. I told myself that when I opened my eyes again I would observe, not judge, the image before me, almost like someone studying a painting. When I reopened my eyes I saw a woman, medium height…young and with a light complexion…brown hair, thick and shiny…blue eyes that where dark around the edges and light in the middle, round nose and full lips…freckles…ears that stick out…small neck, delicate collar bone, and gently rounded shoulders…strong arms, small hands, and short fingers… perky breasts…Firm, yet soft belly…curving hips and strong sturdy legs…big feet and little toes.I laughed realizing what I was actually doing, (God forbid anyone see me!) but I reveled in this unveiling of a body that I had kept hidden and imprisoned. This soft supple, womanly body was not what I saw on TV or in magazines, but she was not the monster that I had made her to be. Looking at my body, for the first time with interest and gentleness, instead of the self-loathing and disgust, was a welcomed change. To be a person observing the body, instead of a person full of hate, criticizing and belittling, was something I never thought would happen. Are there days when looking in the mirror is less than great, as I feel the sting of society’s standards of what “beauty” is? Of course there are those days. But those days do not send me into a spiral of self-loathing as they did before. When I’m having “one of those days” I try to change my perception, like a person looking at a work of art, I observe, not judge. I have found that as time goes on and my body distortion continues to lessen as I heal, I am continually finding more and more peace in this body of mine. As is the process of recovery, change happens slowly and gradually. Be patient and gentle as you begin to find comfort in your flesh. And try if you can, to look at your reflection with an artist’s eye and marvel in the masterpiece that is YOU!
I was driving yesterday and past a pile of empty food packages on the side of the road. I wondered if this pile of garbage was the remains of a frantic binge. I caught myself in mid thought. “Jenn, it is just trash.”
My immediate thought about the story behind the empty bags and boxes of food, made me realize how my past behaviors still seem to be very much in my awareness. Those empty packages would have been from my frantic binges only a few years ago and seeing them seemed to send me shooting back in time. I try to live my life, for the most part, in the present, fully taking advantage of what is directly in front of me. So, I find myself being jarred as I flashback to days gone by, full of food and bathrooms and starvation. It’s an interesting balancing act. I can’t pretend that those years of self-destruction didn’t exist, but in the same token, I don’t want to linger in the past. I guess that is what healing is all about, learning how to use the experiences of the past to help you grow, yet not holding on to or getting lost in them.
I live day to day. I laugh. I sleep. I eat. I work. I rest. I take joy in living. I let go and try not get caught up in the chaos. I shop. I watch TV. I play.
No one would look at me or at the majority of us, for the most part, and suspect a thing, or sense what our “demons” are. I think most of the world is walking around with demons, past or present. It’s a strange sort of comfort to know that no one really is “demon free.” Everyone at some point in their life dips into darkness for a time. It really seems to be the only way people grow. Only when things fall apart do you realize it needs to be fixed.
I think the deciding factor in how a person’s life continues after the dark period, is what a person does with the demons that they have encountered. Are they embraced or feared? Do they become the teacher or the enemy? Do the demons take over or do they enter and leave quickly? The pain that we experience in our darkest moments is not there for our demise. It is our gentle (yet difficult) nudge towards change. Pain is not meant to be our permanent companion. It is a visitor, a red flag that we have gotten off our path and it is time to redirect our course. To get stuck in the pain, in the darkness, afraid of the demons, is to miss the whole point of why it has entered our life. To fear the darkness, is to fear the opportunity to ultimately find peace because at the end of the darkness is where the light is.
I fought my demons for years, trying to run from them. It wasn’t until I stopped and allowed myself to fall into the darkness that I began to see what lessons where there for me. The moment I surrendered and let go of my fear is the moment my life began to change for the better. I was able to face all that pain and ultimately be free from it.
It is a scary and exhausting thought to
decide to stop running
from your demons, but the sooner you can embrace them, the sooner you can move
past them. It a process, and one that deserves gentleness and patients. You have
all the wisdom you need come out of the darkness. You are your greatest
healer.
Hello, ME
I am a self-confessed former “people-pleaser” addict. My life, up until a
few years ago consisted of trying to reach perfection, not so much for myself,
but to make others happy. I was a good student while in school to please my
teachers. I was an obedient and “good” daughter to please my parents. The
list goes on and on.
My desire to please other people was the reason behind the majority of what I
did, or did not do. During my recovery
when I actually had the opportunity to begin to live my life for me, I was
frightened because I didn’t actually know what I wanted. Everything I
had done, or dreamed of, or worked for was somehow linked to another person and
his or her happiness. When I stopped living my life for other people and began
trying to live my life for ME, I was plagued by guilt and by the fear of
actually having to turn my focus inward.
Up until my recovery, I had conveniently been able to disconnect from myself.
Since all my energy and attention was focused on other people, I was able to
always stay unaware of what I was truly feeling or experiencing, never having to
deal with emotions and feelings I was burying. So, when I stopped playing games
and decided to reclaim my life, not only did I have to learn who I truly was and
what I wanted from my life, but I also had to deal with years of repressed
feelings and emotions. I knew that in order to really start living my life
I would have to deal with certain things that I had tried to run from.
Part of reclaiming my life was about embracing everything inside me, the good
the bad; all of it. If I was going to start doing things for myself, I had to
know what I was like, and what I was feeling.
There was an interesting mix of exhilaration and fear as I got to know myself in
a way I had never before. I was actually shocked when I realized that some
of the dreams I had weren’t actually my dreams at all. The “Jenn” I
had been trying to be for all these years, I began to see, was a “Jenn” who
I could never really be. I had to actually go through a bit of a grieving
period, realizing that I was not this role I had been trying to play. I
was saddened at the fact that I had, in a way, wasted so much time trying to be
this person that I wasn’t and trying to live up to expectations that were
unattainable. But at the same time, I feel that no time as been
wasted. If I hadn’t strayed so far from my true self, I don’t know if
I would be so determined now to live my life from my core. I have an
appreciation for life now that I don’t think I would have had if things had
not gotten so off track. Each day as I continue to heal, a new part of
myself, that had been buried, begins to emerge. At times it can be frightening
when you come face to face with your true identity, when you strip away the
protection and face yourself, honestly and completely.
But I feel that I have been given a tremendous gift. The knowledge I have
gained and the awareness I now have, is something I would NEVER trade. To look
inside yourself and meet the “real” you, is an awe-inspiring process. Life a
flower that is blooming, each day a little bit more is revealed, and each day
you get a little closer to opening completely to the beautiful person coming
alive from within.
“I’m hungry.” I did not utter that statement
for years. Those two words put together in a sentence seemed to proclaim that
which I feared. My hunger, my human need, and my proof of living and needing
sustenance stood for more than just my need for food. It stood for every
need I had in my life. My hunger was the shameful and guilt ridden feeling
that was the enemy.
As I began to reconnect with my emotions, during my anorexia, I, naturally, also
began to reconnect with my hunger. It came roaring with vengeance that sent me
into a panic and into bulimia. It is very normal with an eating disorder to have
this onslaught of hunger. The law in physics says “For every action, there is
an equal and opposite reaction.” Geneen Roth talks about this in her book
Breaking Free from Compulsive Eating. It makes sense that the opposite response
of starvation is hunger, intense hunger. It is a hunger that many people are
unprepared for. Bulimia became the only way for me to deal with the hunger
and the need to eat. NEED. My need as a living breathing person to
answer the call from my body for food left me feeling weak and in need of
punishment.
Looking back, that hatred I had for myself and for my need for food stood for so
much more than the actual physical need to eat. It stood for my lack of
self-worth. To deny ones needs, is to deny ones worthiness as a person. It is to
somehow try to be void, be empty. To say, “I deserve nothing.” Hunger,
and to have needs on any level, is part of being alive. We need air, we need
food, we need rest, we need love, we need happiness, and we need emotions.
Our passions and our dreams are hungers. Relationships
are our need for exchange and intimacy. An
eating disorder proclaims ones unworthiness and recovery is about fighting for
it back. Women, especially, are not taught to put their needs first. It is
that “other” focused awareness instilled in us that helps us in the
disconnection from our bodies and spirits. In my recovery, as I began to
proclaim my needs and respond to them the initial guilt was overpowering. It has
taken time for that voice in my head saying, “You are selfish. You are weak.”
To quiet down and even still there are days when it tries to sneak back. But I
have the skills and the power and the self-love now to remind it that it is not
welcome and it is no longer the voice I listen to. There is a deeper,
wiser, softer voice that resides inside now; it is a voice that has slowly grown
as I have healed.
To reclaim your hunger, on all levels, is a scary prospect. To admit your needs
and respond to them gives the eating disorder reason to reek havoc. The more you
challenge the negativity of the eating disorder and the fear of hunger, however,
the easier it gets and the stronger you become.
For me to speak the words “I am hungry.” is easy now, although I am aware of
that statement as it exits from my lips in a way I feel most people aren’t.
Those words, when I first began to whisper them from under my breath, sent a
shooting stream of guilt and anguish through my body, which over time has faded
as I have reclaimed my worth. But still now, as I proclaim my needs without
guilt or remorse, I feel myself react, not negatively as before, but like a
person experiencing something new and almost foreign. There is exhilaration in
speaking what has been silenced for so long, like a secret that is finally
revealed. To acknowledge one’s hunger and need is the first step, but healing
happens when you embrace it and respond to it with love. As with everything in
recovery and healing, it takes patience and the ability to be gentle with
yourself. There is no need to rush or retard the process. Have faith in
YOU!
I have always been critical of myself, especially
when it came to my
creativity. Having put so much of my identity, when a I was young, in my
dancing, I depended on it to feel worthy. I was "Jenn, the dancer." I
couldn't just BE a dancer, however, I had to be perfect at it and seeing how
that is an impossible goal I always felt lacking, always less than, always
worthless. Now a bit older and hopefully a bit wiser, I have let go of the need
to put my identity in outside things. I am no longer Jenn, the dancer...Jenn,
the writer...Jenn, the (fill in the blank). I am Jenn, plain and simple and I
have found, after the intial fear and panic of course, a wonderful sense of
freedom. There are no longer any masks, or roles, or weights I need to carry to
be "Jenn", to be worthy or of value.
Having said this however, I must confess something. As I was looking
through the website the other day, I came across some of my writing and noticed
some mistakes and my initial reaction was that of failure. Now, I know I
am awful at grammar. The whole spelling and punctuation "thing" seemed
to be a part of the writing process I never mastered and as I grew up I always
remember feeling like a failure because of it.
I remember being a little girl and having my mother read a story I had written
and her saying "Its wonderful dear, but there is an error here, here, and
here." The joy of writing and letting people read it was tainted by my
parents innocent criticism and their reinforcement of my always "not quite
perfect" abilities. And so, reading through one of my articles and seeing
those mistakes sent me back to being ten and hearing the voice of my mother.
"You are talented, but you still have mistakes."
Well, right here and now I am taking a stand and embracing my mistakes. I write
for the joy of it, for the release it allows me. I will not allow my writing to,
like my dancing, be a passion turned into painful wound. We as humans are not
meant to be perfect. It is our so-called imperfections that make us who we are.
And so, I am taking my own advice and wrapping my arms around myself with love
and acceptance. I am embracing myself fully.
Now I ask you to take the step, to let go of the critic you have housed in your
head for so long. Lets start a revolution here and embrace ALL that we
are. Will you join me?
What is it about the innocence of children, their wide-eyed enthusiasm, and open-minded nature? It is hopeful, but at the same time it saddens me when I look at a child and at the freshness and freedom that they possess. Will it remain? Will that youthfulness soon be shadowed by the reality of our society? I often wonder about becoming a mother, about bringing a life into this chaotic world. I remember vividly my sensitivity as a little girl, seeing the starving children on TV or the homeless man on the street and feeling a deep and profound sadness for them. I remember hearing about a hate crime and not understanding the word hate, and the sheer power that it had over some people. I remember watching the aftermath of a bombing on TV and crumbling into tears in my father's arms.
Children have a gift of sensitivity that seems to be forgotten as we age. There are some children, like myself, that carry this sensitivity into adulthood. I have finally come to terms with my sensitivity and now understand it and can work with it. But a child, so new and untainted, does not come into the world possessing the tools to work with it and protect themselves from becoming a sponge to our society's pain. I am leery about producing a child like myself, and knowing what his or her life will be like, and that ever-present sense of empathy that is always at hand.
I am not totally pessimistic. I do believe in the good of humanity and I do feel that a shift is coming into being, however slow it may be. But in the meantime, how do we help our children to hold on to their wide-eyed innocence and angelic presence? How do we help them hold on to their ability to see the good? How do we continue to encourage their ability to speak freely any thought that drifts into their minds and their ability to say NO with conviction and without guilt. How do we help them to hold on to that freedom that allows them to dance naked on the beach, and have imaginary friends? How do we teach them how to hold on to their ability to be so authentic, so pure? We must teach them by example. Imagine if we all became like a child, full of hope, able to see the joy in a rainy day, able to let go and dance and sing and laugh and play. Imagine if we saw the world through a child's eyes, and felt things as purely and intimately as they do. Imagine if we became like a
child, full of questions and without all the answers.
It's an unusual acquired skill. A skill that many of us have. A link, perhaps, an invisible "vibe" that seems to radiate off a person struggling with an eating disorder.
The other day I braved the weekend craziness and headed off to do some shopping. I saw a young girl, probably sixteen or seventeen, shopping with a group of friends, Her barely there legs were lost under her jeans. Her arms were crossed sternly in front of her, her hollow eyes looking down. Okay, so maybe that was just obvious, no special skill required. I headed to the food court to grab a coffee and noticed a woman, early twenties, beautifully dressed. I got a "feeling." I wondered "Could she be one of us?" No immediate markers, but
upon a closer look I was aware of the puffiness under her jaw and the telltale bulimic marker- the raw cut knuckles of the dominant hand.
There was a period of time during my eating disorder that I sought out my fellow suffers. I would purposely look, and be on guard, wanting to feel that connection and give the look of "you too?" I wanted to see who we were, what my ED comrades were like. I find myself now, rather frequently, being plopped in situation where it slaps me in the face. There was the anorexic girl at Wal-Mart with her mother buying Ensure, innocently asking me if I'd ever had it and if it tasted bad. There were the parents at Borders, searching through eating disorder books, asking out loud if anyone knew which book was best. There was the young woman a head of me at the food store wearing her pj's and a winter coat; buying bags of chips, cookies, gallons of ice cream and pies, with a package of laxatives. She talked quickly about a "party for a friend" and how "she was in charge of the food" all the while visible shaking and looking very agitated.
There have been so many times when I have passed women, young or old, and just seen it in their eyes. I have wanted to stop, to hug her and to tell her she is not alone. I have cried many times, for those I see who are so visibly struggling, but I also cry for those who I do not see. We are a group of silent sufferers, but what would happen if we broke the silence. Would the cry fall on deaf ears? How many of us have spotted "one of us" and felt her pains and knew her struggle, but said nothing. What would we say? "Hi, I see that you have an eating disorder." It is a difficult thing, but one that I think we all face. We can not take pain away from those we pass on the street or heal their hearts with one hug. We know one another on a level that is invisible. We do not need words to say we understand. Like war buddies that have fought together in battle. We too have fought together, and we too can heal together. No one is fighting alone.
Who am I
I would call myself "new age." I'm in touch with my spirituality. I go to an acupuncturist and take herbs. I do yoga. I also, however, love to shop, am not a huge fan of nature and have a vise for purses and shoes. My friends call me a walking contradiction. Yes, I enjoy a good walk on the beach and a cool crisp fall day, but you won't see me camping or becoming "Mountain Women." I'm not one of those people to stop shaving my legs and throw myself at the mercy of the "earthy crunchy" gods. I guess I am a contradiction, two opposing parts. On the one half, I am a rather intuitive, gauzy dress wearing, health food eating, crystal using, chant saying, energy feeling, candle burning, angel sensing, meditating soul. One the other, I am a flare jeans wearing, Victoria Secret shopping, guy hunting, cappuccino drinking, hip-hop music loving, make-up wearing, pop culture knowing young woman. How is it I have not yet been sent to an institution or diagnosed as a split personality?
Who knows. These two opposing personalities are both very much who I am. I could never just be one or the other. I seemed to struggle for quite some time with these very contradictory characteristics. But, I have given that up and decided to just embrace it all. Yes, I am quite a mix, but I look at it now, not as two groups of fighting personalities, but one rather colorful person. And so, I will continue to mediated, and pray and do yoga and have crystals, and go shopping, and listen to rap, and buy sparkly nail polish. I do not fit neatly into a category, but instead I can jump around for one to another. I can have a deep conversation about past lives and the meaning of life, and God, and energy or I can sit and watch the MTV music award, and buy sexy underwear and read Cosmo.
Who knows if over time my two opposing sides will come together. I doubt it. I am who I am, nothing more nothing less. Yes there are times when I feel I do not fit into a neat little category, and that can be a lonely feeling. But I feel very lucky to have such a wide perspective. The best of both worlds, I guess you could say. The peace and profound feelings I have from my spirituality and the connection I have with myself on a very deep level is something not all people experience and the fun, hip, and oh-so-human indulgences of my generation are things I can still take pleasure in.
I'm a mix, feeling centuries old, but at the same time feeling youthful and carefree. So, I will continue to fill up my bag, gathering more information about myself as I travel along, grabbing hold of the things in life that resonant with me, and letting go of the things that do don't fit. All the while embracing who I am...whomever that may be.
Goddess: The
True Meaning of the Word
Goddess. That word seems so cliché now, so hip, so
young and “in.” It has taken on a commercial appeal, and has been splattered on to make-up ads and used as
banner for the “new” women. She is wise yet not too overbearing, confidant, but in that not- too- cocky
way, powerful, yet meek and oh-so-female. “Go, girl power.” Looking through my “earthy women”
books. I have been privileged to see the true meaning of the word.
Goddess- worshiped for her power, swooned over for her beauty, feared for her wrath. In the
age of the true goddess the blood from a women’s menstrual cycle was considered sacred and women called
prostitute-priestess were said to dispense the grace of the goddess and were, by some, even called
“healers.” To be with these sacred prostitutes was an honor. *
The true meaning of the word goddess goes beyond what we today seem to have made it. It stands
for more than just a person, a female. It stands for a whole era, when the sacredness of a woman was so
that she was embraced fully, in all her glory. A woman’s sensuality and power seems to have become
two paths that one must decide between. Either a woman is feminine and sensual or she is more masculine
and powerful. Can’t we be both?
Years ago, a women’s power was rooted in her sensuality, the two were intermingled. It is the nature of most women to be
sensual. It flows through our veins; it is instinctual. For many, however, sensuality must be
put a side in order to be considered powerful, taken seriously. In a world still mainly dominated by
males, to be “on their level” one must adopt that masculine part. Is a woman’s sensuality threatening?
Is that full embodiment too much to handle? I feel it important to note here that I am not talking about
sensual in terms of being sexy. No.
Sensuality goes deeper than the mere act of being sexy. It is that part of us that goes back
thousands of years. It is that “earthy” fire that women possess. It is that
deep motherly, worldly compassion. It is that raw emotion, that gentle heart, that powerful rage, that
sway of the hips, that monthly moon cycle, that internal wisdom. We as women are honored to be
able to walk that delicate line between sensuality and power. We are blessed with the best
of both worlds. It is only a matter of balance and allowing oneself to
embrace every part of their femaleness. We are all goddesses… in the true sense of the word.
* Taken from- The Women’s Encyclopedia of Myths and
Secrets by: Barbara G. Walker
Website designed and administered by Sarah Mason, sarah @ paysonroad.com. Website Logo and Graphics Designed by Tahara Hasan. Payson Road was created Copyright © June 2, 2000. All rights reserved. Copyright © 2000-5 [Payson Road]. All rights reserved. Revised: October 03, 2005.
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