clevermanka (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clevermanka) wrote2012-05-30 11:47 am
clevermanka) wrote2012-05-30 11:47 am
Entry tags:
Being a liar has its advantages
Today's Thinky Post is brought to you by a couple things I've read on LJ this week, one thing said to me over the weekend, and one thing I mentioned in an email.
First, a reminder of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tama_grey's thoughts on the body and the self: I believe I need to get to a point where: 1) I accept that...my body is not an indicator of my worth as a person, 2) I am in a state of peace and acceptance with my current body... and 3) I choose to change not out of fear or pressure, but for myself and my personal comfort....Without that baseline of acceptance, it's an endless journey (not to mention an insanely frustrating one, should legitimate health complications physiologically prevent me from reaching any preconceived ideals). (references to body size removed for the sake of this post)
Second, from another friend's locked post (I'm paraphrasing): Kindness & confidence go hand in hand, and I rarely feel confident by nature.
Third, said to me this weekend (again, paraphrasing): I need to put on my game face, because this type of interaction does not come naturally to me. I know I'll have fun once I start, but getting started is difficult.
Fourth, from my email to a friend: Because my body is so fucked up and so sick, I have learned to divorce my brain/body connection. My body is, literally, a machine to me, and I have learned how to observe and use it as such. It's a machine that I can tinker with and improve, or let go to rust. But it isn't me. It's just my body, and I make it do what I want.
Going to CrossFit scares me. I mentioned this last month, and it's still true. It scares me every single time. When I drive to the box, I have butterflies in my stomach. Until I turn down 22nd Street, I play with the idea of going back home. Once I turn down 22nd, it's too late because everyone there knows the Crossfire now--there's no option but to park and walk into the box. I'm afraid of falling, afraid of hurting myself, afraid that I won't be able to physically do something asked of me. And I'm gonna be honest here, those fears are entirely justified. Every single one of those things I've mentioned as fears--they've happened. I've fallen down at the bottom of a squat. I've injured myself in minor or slightly-more-than-minor ways a number of times. Nearly every WOD (if not every one) has at least one movement I simply cannot do, and for which I have to request a modification.
Those falls, those injuries, those inabilities to perform an exercise as prescribed--those things do not make me a failure. My body might fail me (it fails me on a regular basis, frankly), but I am not my body, and therefore I am not a failure. The things which have most debilitated me physically--the autoimmune disease, the issues with digestion and fatigue--these are the also the things that have made it possible for me to view my body as something separate from what makes me what I am. If I allowed myself to be defined by what limits me, I would still be sitting on the couch with aching hip joints and an abdomen horribly distended by eating poisonous substances. I'm not saying I don't occasionally sink into a pity pit of hating my body. I don't know how not to hate something that betrays me on a regular basis. But I never hate myself for what my body is doing (or not doing, as is usually the case).
There's a trite little phrase that goes something like "Courage isn't a lack of fear. Courage is doing something in spite of fear." I think the saying is true, if over-used and unfortunately reminiscent of those annoying inspirational posters. I don't care if people think of me as courageous, but I like to be seen as confident. The idea of courage is fine in the abstract, but it's not something I work at. I work hard at confidence. Psst...I'm going to let you in on a secret, here. I have worked very hard for most of my life to be confident. I'm still working on it.
Early childhood was easy for me, and I have vague recollections of feeling confident in myself. Then we moved away from Indiana, and I found myself in a new environment. This was my first lesson in Things That Make Me Uncomfortable. I discovered I didn't like change. I didn't like feeling new. I had to pretend I was confident. I do this still, and frequently. Every new situation calls for another donning of the Confidence Coat, and once I've worn it enough in that circumstance, it becomes natural. I am a poster girl for Fake It 'Til You Make It. My confidence does not come from kindness. My confidence comes from successfully lying to myself and others until the lie becomes truth.
Accepting my body for what it is right now does not mean accepting its current state is all it can be. I am not always in control of my body, but I am always in control of my mind, my choices of behavior, and how I deal with my body. If I want to improve my physical condition, I must do things that make me mentally and emotionally uncomfortable. The best way for me to deal with mental and emotional discomfort in most circumstances is to behave as though I am confident until I actually am.
I'm not preaching, here. I know my way doesn't work for everyone. No one thing works for everyone, but if you are honestly interested in bettering yourself, it's crucial to know what methods work best for pushing yourself. Nobody improves by being mentally, physically, and emotionally comfortable. Change is hard and uncomfortable. I am no good at being gentle and loving with myself (or others). I am very good at separating desire from ability while remaining objective about both.
What are your best methods for encouraging improvement in yourself? Are you utilizing them?
First, a reminder of
tama_grey's thoughts on the body and the self: I believe I need to get to a point where: 1) I accept that...my body is not an indicator of my worth as a person, 2) I am in a state of peace and acceptance with my current body... and 3) I choose to change not out of fear or pressure, but for myself and my personal comfort....Without that baseline of acceptance, it's an endless journey (not to mention an insanely frustrating one, should legitimate health complications physiologically prevent me from reaching any preconceived ideals). (references to body size removed for the sake of this post)Second, from another friend's locked post (I'm paraphrasing): Kindness & confidence go hand in hand, and I rarely feel confident by nature.
Third, said to me this weekend (again, paraphrasing): I need to put on my game face, because this type of interaction does not come naturally to me. I know I'll have fun once I start, but getting started is difficult.
Fourth, from my email to a friend: Because my body is so fucked up and so sick, I have learned to divorce my brain/body connection. My body is, literally, a machine to me, and I have learned how to observe and use it as such. It's a machine that I can tinker with and improve, or let go to rust. But it isn't me. It's just my body, and I make it do what I want.
Going to CrossFit scares me. I mentioned this last month, and it's still true. It scares me every single time. When I drive to the box, I have butterflies in my stomach. Until I turn down 22nd Street, I play with the idea of going back home. Once I turn down 22nd, it's too late because everyone there knows the Crossfire now--there's no option but to park and walk into the box. I'm afraid of falling, afraid of hurting myself, afraid that I won't be able to physically do something asked of me. And I'm gonna be honest here, those fears are entirely justified. Every single one of those things I've mentioned as fears--they've happened. I've fallen down at the bottom of a squat. I've injured myself in minor or slightly-more-than-minor ways a number of times. Nearly every WOD (if not every one) has at least one movement I simply cannot do, and for which I have to request a modification.
Those falls, those injuries, those inabilities to perform an exercise as prescribed--those things do not make me a failure. My body might fail me (it fails me on a regular basis, frankly), but I am not my body, and therefore I am not a failure. The things which have most debilitated me physically--the autoimmune disease, the issues with digestion and fatigue--these are the also the things that have made it possible for me to view my body as something separate from what makes me what I am. If I allowed myself to be defined by what limits me, I would still be sitting on the couch with aching hip joints and an abdomen horribly distended by eating poisonous substances. I'm not saying I don't occasionally sink into a pity pit of hating my body. I don't know how not to hate something that betrays me on a regular basis. But I never hate myself for what my body is doing (or not doing, as is usually the case).
There's a trite little phrase that goes something like "Courage isn't a lack of fear. Courage is doing something in spite of fear." I think the saying is true, if over-used and unfortunately reminiscent of those annoying inspirational posters. I don't care if people think of me as courageous, but I like to be seen as confident. The idea of courage is fine in the abstract, but it's not something I work at. I work hard at confidence. Psst...I'm going to let you in on a secret, here. I have worked very hard for most of my life to be confident. I'm still working on it.
Early childhood was easy for me, and I have vague recollections of feeling confident in myself. Then we moved away from Indiana, and I found myself in a new environment. This was my first lesson in Things That Make Me Uncomfortable. I discovered I didn't like change. I didn't like feeling new. I had to pretend I was confident. I do this still, and frequently. Every new situation calls for another donning of the Confidence Coat, and once I've worn it enough in that circumstance, it becomes natural. I am a poster girl for Fake It 'Til You Make It. My confidence does not come from kindness. My confidence comes from successfully lying to myself and others until the lie becomes truth.
Accepting my body for what it is right now does not mean accepting its current state is all it can be. I am not always in control of my body, but I am always in control of my mind, my choices of behavior, and how I deal with my body. If I want to improve my physical condition, I must do things that make me mentally and emotionally uncomfortable. The best way for me to deal with mental and emotional discomfort in most circumstances is to behave as though I am confident until I actually am.
I'm not preaching, here. I know my way doesn't work for everyone. No one thing works for everyone, but if you are honestly interested in bettering yourself, it's crucial to know what methods work best for pushing yourself. Nobody improves by being mentally, physically, and emotionally comfortable. Change is hard and uncomfortable. I am no good at being gentle and loving with myself (or others). I am very good at separating desire from ability while remaining objective about both.
What are your best methods for encouraging improvement in yourself? Are you utilizing them?