My birthday is in a day or so and I’m finding myself having an interesting reaction to anticipating its arrival. First, you must know that I love birthdays. Like l-o-v-e birthdays. I’m the lady who wants to celebrate the person whose special day it is for the entire month. To be honest, I’m a good person to know around your birthday – I’ll bake you treats, sprinkle confetti in your hair, and just generally sing your praises.

So as I approach this birthday a bit more… subdued. Somehow, it seems less like an occasion for fanfare and more of one for quiet reflection. As this particular birthday draws near, my mind keeps going back to myself as a young girl playing make-believe.

From the time I could talk I wanted to be older than I was. I forged ahead with everything I did and by six years old I already felt nineteen. So playing “grown-up” was a natural pastime for myself and my, at times, unwilling brothers. In my fantasy, I always played myself at the age that I am on the cusp of turning (give it up now, cuz I’m not telling you the digits!).

It always seemed like such a cool age, at least in my pre-adolescent mind. It seemed hip, but wise. Adult, but fun. Sophisticated, but stylish. Of course, I had my life carefully painted in my world of pretend as well. And now as I creep up to this next marker of time, I am left recognizing all the ways in which my fantasy has – and has not – come developed into reality.

It’s easy to get sucked into the well of disappointment at what has not transpired. I have not yet bought my Tuscan villa, for one. Or written my book, for two (I had very mature goals, you’ll see). In all of the regret, it’s easy to lose sight of all of the ways in which my visions have actually manifested in beautiful and profound ways.

There’s a really powerful quote from Joseph Campbell that I repeatedly share on Facebook and have stuck to my wall at work (on an incredibly decorative post-it note, no less). It says:

“We must be willing to let go of the life we planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.”

I am nothing if not a planner, and so this whole “letting go” idea doesn’t exactly come naturally. But I work at it each and every day. I hold on passionately to the dreams that have become reality, and I (try to) let sift through my fingers those that have not.

Being about to enter this new year of life (and, as my girlhood self predicted, being incredibly wise by now), I feel it my prerogative to remind you that if we stay so narrowly focused on the life we have pictured for ourselves, we risk a more beautiful life passing us by unnoticed.

So take a risk. Do something unexpected. Look forward and not back. Open yourself to the possibilities of the unknown. Stay present, but dream big. And never stop being hopeful.

And most of all, always blow out candles on your birthday.

What else should I (or you) remember on a birthday? (Check out the amazing 

{image credit :: mwmgraphics.com}

Acknowledging and cultivating my own creativity is still a struggle for me at times, but can honestly say I’m always inspired to stretch the limits of my creative mind when I read Margarita Tartakovsky’s brilliant ideas. She’s the a PsychCentral author of Weightless, a totally amazing resource for all things body image and eating disorders. (Each Monday she shares an awesome body image boosting idea that often focuses on getting creative.) Margarita’s also the author of MargaritaTartakovsky.com, where she talks candidly about life, fashion, and writing (among other things!). Read on as she explains why (and how) to incorporate more creativity into your life.

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I live in my head. I always have. But it was a lot worse years ago. My negative thoughts would wrap themselves around other negative thoughts and write their own negative stories. Stories about having the wrong body, not being pretty enough, needing to lose weight. Needing to fix the latest “flaw.” Needing desperately to change.

But connecting to my creativity helped me stop filling my world with superficial, stagnant things and start pursuing my passions and really living life. Because when you focus on exploring what you love to do, you feel more alive. You’re less burdened by constant body-bashing. You’re less impressed with the thin ideal. 

Your priorities shift. You shift from wanting to whittle down your curves to cultivating your craft. The conversation in your head changes.

And your voice starts to get louder. The voice that yearns to try new things and express itself by making art, taking pictures, writing, sewing or doing tons of other creative activities.  

Creativity helps us become whole. It brings richness to our lives. Suddenly, the world is brighter. And it’s a whole lot more fun. There’s the fun of experimenting. Of finding something you love. Of being immersed in the process.

Creativity also gives us back our power. The power to build things with our hands. The power to make images come alive. The power to solve a problem. The power to use our minds for positive and interesting exploration. The power to be curious and ask questions. The power to contribute our voices to a conversation.

Here are five ways I like to tap into my creativity, which might ignite your imagination, too.

1. Take e-courses. One of the things I love about writing — and reading and interviewing experts — is that I get to learn new tidbits every day.  I’ll always be a student at heart (minus the scary standardized tests and long term papers). That’s why I love taking classes online. This website provides a list of creativity courses. I’ve taken many e-classes. But I especially love the e-courses from Susannah Conway. I just finished her photography class, and it was eye-opening.

2. Connect to your inner child.  Kids are super creative. They live and breathe creativity, and we can learn a lot from how they unabashedly play and experiment and invent. Recently a reader on Weightless mentioned that one of her favorite self-care practices is to color. I love that. How can you play with creativity? What used to fire up your imagination when you were a little one? 

3. Read. When it feels like the ideas have been permanently plucked from my brain, I know that I’m not reading enough. So I go to my favorite books and blogs to feed my brain the nutrients I need for ideas to blossom. One of my favorite books on creativity is Patti Digh’s Creative Is A Verb. This was really the first book that helped me connect to my creativity. It was my a-ha moment that I am creative. Everyone is.  I also love Maya Stein’s poetry, which just gets me at every line. I get inspiration from a variety of blogs, from writing to food to fashion. These are some of my favorite creativity-boosting blogs: Susannah Conway; Dooce; Eat, Live, Run; Kendi Everyday. 

4. Journal. I don’t journal regularly. I wish I did but I don’t. If writing pages a day seems overwhelming to you, start small. That’s what I do. Last year, in NYC, I bought one of those five-year journals — I’m seriously addicted to journals and own way too many — and I’ve been writing down snippets of my thoughts and doings a few times a week. I also love my itty-bitty notebook by Marta from Marta Writes. It reminds me to savor and truly taste my surroundings. Every day (or really whenever you feel like it), you record:

• ·       I love the smell of
• ·       I love the sound of
• ·       I love the taste of
• ·       I love the sight of
• ·       I love the feel of 

Many people also like keeping a gratitude journal or using journal prompts.

5. Take yourself out. This tip comes from Julia Cameron. She suggests taking yourself out on a solo artist date every week. It could be anything from going to a fabric shop to going to a museum. She says the goal is to “enchant yourself” or “woo your own consciousness.” It’s less about working hard at your art and more about playing. I also love the idea of learning to enjoy your own company, which is something you rarely do when you struggle with body image or eating issues. I live in a small city in Florida where the options are limited. But I regularly see musicals — I’m also addicted to Broadway — or the ballet, browse bookstores and ride my bike (activity is key for creativity). And when I’m visiting my family in NYC, I make sure to check out at least one museum and take tons of pictures with my iPhone. I try new foods and visit new sights. I try to slow down, focus and breathe it all in.

How do you tap into your creativity? Has connecting to your creativity helped your body image?

{image credit :: adrienne leonard}

Dear Self-Doubt,

You and I are so over. I know that you’ve known we’ve been on the rocks for a while, but it’s finally time to pony up and get off the pot (do you like the mixed metaphor?).

I think I’ve known you’ve been holding me back for a while. In the beginning, I was so hooked into you. Co-dependent really. I’d try to venture out on my own, assert my independence, and you would just show up! I never invited you. You just took it upon yourself to bring your sorry butt along.

Well, I’m tired of uninvited guests. Sometimes, I just want to be by myself. Or I want to be able to hang out with my friends without you distracting me. You’ve always been too possessive.

For a long time, I thought I could keep you around and just see you on occasion. But I’m realizing that our relationship just doesn’t work like that. When we’re together, you seem to have all of me and I can’t even think straight. I get so caught into what you are telling me that my own voice is drowned out.

I just can’t go on like this. There’s too much that I want to do. I want to learn to sing (no, like really sing). You always told me my voice was like nails on a chalkboard. Well, that’s crap. I want to write a book. You always told me that there’s no way to get published in this day and age. I call your bluff. I want to walk confidently into any room. You told me that I should look at the floor and avoid eye contact. How could I have listened to you!

I know it sounds cliché, but I’m sure that you’ll find someone much better suited for you. Someone who doesn’t realize what an amazing woman she is. Someone who needs you more than I do and can be as attached to you as you are to me.

Me? I’ll be okay. I’m ready for this change. I might grieve a little – I mean, you’ve been a pretty big part of my life for a while – but I’ll be just fine in the end. In fact, I have no doubt.

Love,

Me

–

This was super fun to write! Feel free to adapt, or write your own! 

What would you say to self-doubt? 

{image credit :: gabifresh}

I’ll be honest with you. I’m not an avid style blog reader. While my Google Reader is filled to the brim (I won’t tell you the number of sites out of fear of ridicule – yes, I do have an off-line life!), I only regularly check out one style blog, and that’s the oh-so-ah-mazing Already Pretty. (If you follow NTS on facebook, you probably already know that.)

But, I just came across this stellar site that I just had to share. Maybe I’m tardy to the party on this one, but have you seen GabiFresh yet? The blog of its namesake, Gabi Gregg, the site is a simple yet intriguing mixture of fashion, feminism, and fun.

As a self-described “fat girl.” Gabi originally created a break-out site called Young, Fat, and Fabulous that documented her daily wearings, with a dose of deeper meaning. She told MTV, “It has a message beyond fashion, about accepting yourself at any size, and feeling stylish.”

Her new site, GabiFresh, offers beautiful photography, fashion ideas, and a reminder that there is life beyond a size 6. A totally fabulous life in fact. Gabi is beautiful, smart, and worthy of a check-out. So go do that.

Have you heard of Gabi? What other style blogs do you like?

{image credit :: less cake and more frosting}

I was in the darkened parking garage the other morning after running an early morning errand. I was getting ready to back out of the spot where I was tucked away, when I suddenly noticed in my rearview mirror a man walking incredibly slowly behind me. He looked to be in his forties, short with dark brown hair. Impatient and running late to work, I sense myself getting irritated with this man. Soon, I was downright angry. How long can it take to walk to your car, buddy, I fumed. I think you’re just doing this to piss me off.

Once the man had laboriously made his way to his car and out of my path, I pulled my car out and looked over at the man trying to get into the driver’s seat. Illuminated by my headlights, I could see that the man had only one leg. The other was a prosthetic, and he walked with a cane, hobbling along and apparently exerting great effort

I felt like a complete jerk.

You know that phrase, “You know what you get when you assume? You make an ass out of u and me,” I always chuckle at that. Until I’m the ass.

My heart sank both for the struggle that he had to endure in doing something as simple as walking across the garage and that I could be so insensitive.

As I was driving home – still feeling relatively crappy – I started to think about all of the assumptions that we make about people. For the man in the garage, the situation was a bit more extreme than the usual encounter: I assumed he could walk normally, and in fact he couldn’t. I also assumed that he was trying to make me late for work, and in fact he was simply trying to make his way past an impatient driver.

But I started to think of all the ways in which we make assumptions about those around us, and don’t have the fortune to be corrected. We might assume that our friend who just bailed on dinner had something better come along and didn’t even care about our feelings and why are we even friends with her anyway since she always does this kind of thing… Humph! Or we assume that our boss overlooked us for the promotion because she’s just always been jealous of us and probably is just threatened by how good we are at our job and really needs to work on her insecurity anyway.

It’s amazing the way that our minds fill in the blanks. Our brains don’t particularly like uncertainty, so it’s like we have to make that go away by creating the truth for ourselves. Assumptions are propositions that are, to some degree, taken for granted. We make an assumption so that we might be able to make a decision, usually.

If the guy at the next table at the restaurant is looking at us, we can assume that a.) we have marinara sauce on our shirt, b.) he really likes the look of our chocolate torte, or c.) he finds us attractive. Our assumption here will make guide us in making a decision; namely, running to the bathroom for cold water or smiling back at him.

With all of these assumptions and decisions that we make, you would think that we would be develop some pretty stellar mind-reading skills. In fact, though, we often fail to account for all of the factors involved. Our perceptions of what others are thinking, doing, or feeling, is so heavily veiled by our own thoughts, behaviors, and feelings that it’s hard to make accurate assessments.

I find this important to remember in moments of high intensity, particularly when I’m feeling angry, frustrated, or hurt by someone. I recognize that I rarely know the full story, and that the only way to know the truth is to… you guessed it – ask them!

In the meantime, or when asking is not an option, I try to stay as open minded as possible. And from now on I’ll try to practice patience in parking lots as well.

What kind of assumptions do you find yourself making about others?

For inspiration for this post, I have Kelly Clarkson’s anthem blaring in the background. I have to admit, it’s both catchy and empowering – a lethal combination in my musical book.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller
Doesn’t mean I’m lonely when I’m alone

Rock on, sister…

What doesn’t kill you makes a fighter
Footsteps even lighter
Doesn’t mean I’m over cause you’re gone

What makes this song so powerful, in my estimation, is that it utilizes a pretty pervasive cultural ideal and makes it pop. It’s adds a bit more life to the idea since it was originally stated by philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche as “That which does not kill us makes us stronger.”

My own experience has been that people will use this phrase as a means of consolation. As a society, we’re fairly uncomfortable with other people’s pain, or our own for that matter (see here and here for elaboration). So, we say things like “it’ll all be okay in the end” or “everything happens for a reason,” or “what doesn’t kill you…” to try to both ease the heartache of another person and obscure the idea that pain could exist just because it exists.

Sometimes it’s something that we tell ourselves. We want to believe that our pain serves a greater function, that some good can arise from the ashes of our suffering. I’ll admit that I’ve reminded myself of this idea many times after a tragedy or hardship rocked me. And to be honest, it’s helped to bolster my sense of potency and self-esteem. In fact, I often look back on the difficult moments on my life collectively and think that these junctures shaped me as a strong and independent person.

Could it be, though, that I would be strong and independent without enduring these struggles? That’s a chicken and egg question that I’ll never be able to answer definitively for myself. However, there are researchers looking at what happens when people suffer trauma and hardship.

What the researchers have found is that difficult situations do enhance individuals’ ability to cope with future life stressors, at least to a point. In classic Goldilocks fashion, researchers note that those with the best ability to cope are individuals who have experienced some turmoil, while those who have experienced none or a lot are at a disadvantage.

So it looks like adversity is beneficial in the right amounts. If you skate through most of life with minimal obstacles, you never learn how navigate around or through the ones that inevitably crop up. This might explain why we see so many children who completely melt down when asked to share a toy. They’ve never learned how to regulate and manage difficult emotions that arise with things like frustration and disappointment. On the other hand, a person who’s dealt a heavy hand of tragedy might have their resources completely tapped. Their system is literally overwhelmed by the stress of what they endure and stops functioning properly. They might become immobilized when more stress emerges.

So what we know is that this issue is complex. We have not really defined the “optimal” amount of stress, and I think that varies greatly depending on individual factors, like personality, temperament, and resilience. It also depends heavily on the amount of social support a person has when in the grip of something difficult.

What we do know is that trying to make meaning out of suffering helps us to create coherent narratives of our lives, and this leads to us feeling more fulfilled, content, and healthy. So if you want to say that whatever kills you makes you stronger, be my guest. You could even sing it!

Our airwaves, our water coolers, and even dinner tables are full of discussion about this supposed massive threat to our collective health and wellbeing called obesity. In fact, we don’t often hear the term “obesity” without hearing “epidemic” jammed into the same sentence.

For all of the hollering going on, you would think that fat people were dropping like flies and infecting others are their way down. In fact, the director of the Center for Disease Control (CDC), Dr. Julie Guberding, warned us in 2002 that obesity would be comparable to the bubonic plague. I’m not sure if Dr. Gbererding needs a lesson in history, but the Black Death took the lives of almost 200 million Europeans, approximately 50% of the population, in a four year period.

Meanwhile, obesity is associated with an estimated 26,000 deaths per year, a number that has been drastically revised since the CDC initially claimed that obesity was the cause for 400,000 deaths per year. [Note too that many studies assert that the risk of death associated with obesity is the same for individuals in normal weight categories, and less than those in low weight categories, but we don’t hear those statistics.] Have our shaming treatments for obesity worked that quickly to reduce the number so dramatically? No, not at all. Instead, the obesity epidemic stakeholders were forced to more honestly report the findings.

So why all the fuss about obesity as an epidemic? Once you start to peel back the layers, you start to see just how many individuals and organizations stand to profit from treating obesity as the next SARS or cholera. Government entities gain funding and public approval. Politicians gain supporters who see a leader being “proactive” and “tough” on health issues. Doctors gain patients being more interested in their surgical interventions and medications. Pharmaceutical companies boom with business. And the diet and weight loss industries? Puh-lease…

Who doesn’t benefit from the myth of the obesity epidemic? Well, obese people for one (and all of us for two). Individuals of a large body size or weight are further stigmatized by labeling supposedly increasing waistlines an epidemic. Just like the HIV/AIDS epidemic, the culture of panic that surrounds the condition leads to individuals being feared, reviled, and isolated. Large people in our society today are told they represent what is to be avoided. They are ascribed with labels of being “lazy,” “unmotivated,” “lacking willpower,” and assumed to eat much, move little, and be a drain on healthcare. Needless to say, all of these assumptions are incorrect.

With it clear that obesity and weight itself is not a crisis, it is important to acknowledge that we do have an issue on our hands. As a society, we have a distorted relationship with food and our bodies. I’d like to propose that what we have in our society is not an obesity epidemic, but a hunger crisis.

We hunger for the taste of real, non-processed food. We hunger for the days of our childhood when we were able to listen to and trust our bodies to tell us when to start and stop eating. We hunger for a connection with our bodies. We hunger for joyful movement that makes us feel alive and unencumbered. We hunger for sensibility and rationality among those who lead us and care for us. We hunger for honesty within and between ourselves. We hunger for food to be a part of celebration but not all of it. We hunger for time to spend with ourselves in quiet reflection. We hunger for peace in our bodies and minds.

Until we can recognize the hunger crisis, we’ll be forced to continue wandering the labyrinth of manipulated statistics, threatening claims, and fear mongering. Until we recognize that our cultural struggle is with our individual relationship with ourselves as embodied creatures, we get mired in the battle of the bulge that the weight loss industry and our government would have us believe to be true. From that place, the likely outcome is getting stuck in a vicious sequence of weight cycling and shame. However, if we can recognize what it is we are truly hungry for, we might just be able to satiate ourselves.

How has all of the media attention on the “obesity epidemic” impacted you? Do you think we have a hunger crisis going on?

{image credit :: audrey sue via pinterest}

My husband and I recently began working our way through Suze Orman’s self-help guide to financial freedom. With more than a little student loan debt (grad school don’t come cheap!), we were wanted to ensure that we were most wisely planning for our financial future.

I personally think Suze Orman is brilliant, witty, and intuitive (sensing the crush I have?), so I was willing to do about anything she suggested. One of the first exercises in the workbook asked us to spend some time reflecting on our financial histories. Specifically, she wanted us to go back to childhood and think about our first memories of money and the beliefs, assumptions, and feelings that originated there. Having dreaded doing a workbook on money matters, I was relieved at this task. Deep psychological exploration? This I could handle!

Despite a smidge of initial skepticism (Memories, my husband questioned? Where does this book talk about our 401k options?), we took the plunge and started talking about early memories of money. While we come from very similar upbringings in terms of economic status, the ways that our families (and eventually we) thought about money were very different. Suddenly, so many of the disagreements that we have today about money (which, maybe surprisingly, aren’t many) came into clearer focus. We weren’t just disagreeing on how to allocate retirement savings – we were (subconsciously) talking about some of our deepest insecurities and fears.

As I started digging into my own financial formation, I began to think about just how much matters of money affect and reflect our relationships with food and ourselves. As a psychologist who treats eating disorders, it’s interesting to me to see these connections play out for my patients as well.

It’s not uncommon for someone who restricts their food to restrict their spending as well. Oftentimes I understand these behaviors as intimately tied to one another – a person will describe feeling unworthy to eat or consume, whether it’s food or material items. They might spend money on others, but they will rewear tattered clothing, deny themselves typical “splurges,” and in general avoid taking for themselves. In my understanding, the root of these behaviors lies squarely on the issue of shame. Can I be seen? Do I deserve? Am I okay?

For most individuals, a pattern of dietary restriction isn’t sustainable in the long-run. Eventually, they engage in binge eating because their bodies and minds are so ravaged from a period of restriction and starvation. This pattern happens almost identically with spending. If we deny ourselves buying the things we want and need for so long, eventually we “crack” and buy something we’re not even sure we want, oftentimes spending more than we had previously saved. A personal example was when I had agreed to not buy new clothes for a year in order to save money (I admittedly had a pretty full closet). Within the first two weeks, I found myself on online retailers and Pinterest looking at new fashions – things I never did before! It reminded me of the Minnesota starvation experiment when men were restricted food intake for many weeks. Soon the men started exhibited a significant preoccupation with food, reporting dreaming about it, imagining it, playing with it when it was available. The lesson? Restriction doesn’t work! And the resulting feelings of shame and self-blame when one “breaks down” then just perpetuate the cycle.

What this all means is that if you struggle with your relationship food, you might also want to take a closer look at your finances as well. Notice if you can find similar patterns emerging, and if you might benefit from some professional guidance.

Do you see your relationship with food being connected to your relationship with money?

{via pinterest; originally here}

This post is one that has been brewing in mind for a while. After I watched Brene Brown’s recent TED talk on approaching shame, I was settled on writing it. And then I read Gala Darling’s amazing post on whether she’s a radical self-love hypocrite for wearing five-inch heels.

What both of these inspiring women talk about is the concept of privilege. Brown claims that we cannot talk about race relations in this country without talking about shame, the link being the acknowledgement of white privilege. I whole-heartedly agree. To really address race, we have to address privilege, and we have to address shame.

Gala Darling points outs the fact that just as those of us who are white are granted certain privileges in our society, so are those of us who are attractive, or who ascribe to the norms laid out like inalienable laws in our culture.

Think about it. I’m sure that you’ve had the experience of being decked out in a pretty dress, high heels, and a face full of make-up, and been treated oh so slightly better than when you showed up in your hoodie and flannel shorts. One example that I can think of is running into a grocery store to pick something up before a party and being asked by several different staff if they could help me find what I was looking for. Wow, I thought, what service! Unfortunately, I didn’t have the same experience when I walked in a week later after a sweaty run and no shower. Granted, the first time it could have been my hurried expression and the second time my smell to blame, but I’d put money on the beauty privilege idea.

This type of treatment isn’t relegated to grocery stores, unfortunately. Watching The Voice recently, my husband and I were commenting that the judges seem to place a value on physical attractiveness in selecting the winner of the “battle-round” (when two contestants face off in a singing duel). This is particularly ironic because the show is based around the idea that one should be advanced and selected based on the quality of their performance. In fact, it’s what makes the show so engaging is that individuals with non-stereotyped body sizes, physical appearances, or styles, are actually given a chance to shine. In the beginning, it eliminates beauty privilege. But as soon as the judges can use visual information to help them make a decision, we start to see the insidious pull of attraction. Just think of Susan Boyle’s rise to fame.

It’s not just the judges that are engaging in this. Just wait until the live shows when the American public can vote. I feel quite certain we’ll see more beauty bias at play. And to be honest, there’s good, biologically speaking, reason for this.

Back in the 1970’s, some social psychology researchers identified the “what is beautiful is good” bias. What they and subsequent researchers found was that attractive people are assumed to be better employees, smarter, happier, and have more positive personality traits. These same biases operate for lower versus higher weight individuals as well.

What’s interesting is that, while these ideas are not necessarily founded, when they are true it could also be due the cycle of privilege. When someone is born attractive, they are treated differently from the get-go. They are regarded well by peers and possibly interact more frequently, thereby developing more charisma and confidence. They are favored by teachers and might end up enjoying school more for this reason, so suddenly they are excelling in their courses.

The point is, the idea of beauty privilege is complex, and the solution is unfortunately complex as well. It’s not as easy as just stopping giving pretty people all the good stuff. Our evolution-driven wiring to seek out what is attractive is not going anywhere. So what we are left with is the task of recognizing and talking about the idea of beauty privilege.

Just as with any form of privilege, we hold back from discussing it because it can bring about shame. But we know that approaching shame and sitting with it in all its discomfort is part of the work of becoming more authentic and happier human beings. If we want to live in a world where our politicians are the best people to run the government, our singers are actually talented, and our children don’t feel they have to wear make-up in pre-school, then we have to acknowledge and start dialoguing about what is hard to talk about.

How have you seen beauty privilege? 

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As a collector of fairy tales and myths that have the wisdom of the ages embedded in them, I was astonished to discover that there was one well known ancient myth that I had heard about for years – but had totally misunderstood.  In fact, I did not even know the true ending of the story – which actually lends a very different meaning to its message than I had originally thought.  From talking to others, I realized I wasn’t alone with this misinterpretation – and that many of us use the name of this myth, “Pandora’s Box” in our discussions when we caution against   “opening up” something forbidden that could lead to irreversible, and possibly catastrophic events.  The negative imagery of the story is so compelling that it seems to eclipse the truly hopeful ending of the myth and because of this, Pandora’s Box has been used as a metaphor for the dangers of being curious at best, and as an opportunity to blame women for the evils of the world, at worst.

When I did a little research I learned that in early tellings of the tale, the vessel that Pandora had been given by the Gods was her body, but in later versions it became a jar, and then eventually became a box.   Although I knew that the ancient stories were told and retold with regular omissions and additions that emphasized the values of the time, this got me thinking about how externalized and literal we have become over the ages; how we have gone from originally perceiving the body as a vessel of consciousness with many divine gifts, to simply looking at it as an ornamental object and/or a container filled with dangerous things such as impulses, desires, emotions, and intuitions that are best kept restrained and hidden.  Pandora’s Box has become a cautionary tale that discourages curiosity and encourages obedience, warning women not to  “look within” lest they “cause” great misfortune to humankind.  Hmmmm…..

As I look at how “objectivity” has become valued in our culture over “subjectivity”, how external facts are often considered more important than internal stories in the treatment of eating disorders and body image issues, how the “war” on obesity emphasizes the body as the problem rather than calling upon all of us to look within (with as much curiosity as we can muster) and bring to light what the real issues are for us (as a culture and as individuals) I feel compelled to post this re-telling of the myth …  as a story of hope.

         Once upon a time – high up on Olympus – the gods and goddesses gathered to create a new creature for Earth:  The first woman.  “A woman!  A woman?  A woman!” they proclaimed excitedly.  “Let’s name her Pandora, which means ‘the gifted’ and also, ‘the all giving.’” Athena, the goddess of wisdom, breathed life force into her and gave her a Soul, which contained the wisdom of the ages and would remain available to her for guidance and creativity.  Aphrodite, the goddess of Love, stepped forward and said, “I will give her the gift of beauty and vibrant sexuality.  She will have uninhibited sensual desire and a captivating beauty which will allow hearts to open in her presence. ”  Apollo, said, “I will give her music.  She will be able to give and receive joy through song and dance as she celebrates Life, itself.”   Hermes, the messenger God, said: “I will give her the ability to communicate.  She will be able to listen without judgment, use words eloquently, and speak her truth clearly, kindly, and honestly.”

       Then Hephaestus, the blacksmith of the Gods, began to fashion a body for her using water and earth, creating a three-dimensional container that was strong enough to serve as a vessel for her consciousness. He said, “I will give her the three dimensions of height, width, and depth”, as he began to forge a dazzlingly beautiful body with gorgeous curves and soft, rounded features – the likes of which had never been seen before.  When Hephaestus had completed her body, Hera, the Goddess of Marriage, gave her a most interesting gift, which she placed in the very core of her being: the gift of curiosity.  The Gods and Goddesses then agreed to add a fourth dimension:  time – the ability to conceive of past, present, and future.

       Much later, in the re-writing of the myth, the “vessel” that Hephaestus created was described an external jar or box.   But in the original version it was her body that was the container…
The story goes that Pandora was cautioned there would be irreversible consequences if she “opened the box” or “looked inside”.   For some time she obeyed the warnings against doing so — but Hera’s gift was too strong and it was only a matter of time before she “opened up” and “looked deep inside”.

        Immediately from within the vessel surged the awareness of separation and duality, and feelings of angst and isolation poured out.  As the laws of cause and effect emerged, they brought forth feelings of betrayal, regret and disappointment.  The cultural dictates of right and wrong rushed out, accompanied by feelings of shame and guilt. The realities of old age, sickness, and death overwhelmed her, and she was flooded with feelings of fear and body hatred.  As awareness of abuse, neglect, and violence emerged into her consciousness, grief, heartbreak, and feelings of unworthiness came tumbling out.  Pandora trembled as more frightening emotions poured forth with each conscious discovery: jealousy, lust, terror, frustration, discouragement, rage, loneliness, confusion and flashes of insanity.  This was what she had been warned about should she dare to open the lid to her own dark interior.  Desperately, she reached for the lid, in an attempt to stuff down whatever else might burst forth, certain she had made a terrible mistake.  She watched all that had been released swirl around her, blend into the light, and merge with all-that-is.  What had she done?

      Just as she was about to slam down the lid and seal it forever, she heard a faint, hauntingly beautiful sound that resonated from deep within.  Ever so softly and gently, it swirled up from where it had been buried beneath all the rage and pain, and all the fear and sorrow; underneath notions of good and bad, right and wrong, knowing and not knowing. She paused for a brief moment to listen and then peeked inside.

      It was Hope, speaking to her with a voice so subtle and faint that it required the use all of her gifts to hear its whisper.  Softly and gently, it informed her that by releasing all the imagined “evils” from the dark depths of her being, by bringing them out of the Unconscious into the light of Consciousness, they could now be met with love, compassion, acceptance and forgiveness.

      And this is how healing occurs.