Progress.
Not perfection.
If you’re a recovering alcoholic or addict, you’ve heard the words in today’s title before. Depending on how long you’ve been in recovery, you might have heard them once, or you might have heard them so many times they’ve become part of your psyche.
They are part of my psyche.
At this closer-to-the-tomb-than-the-womb stage of my life, I no longer seek perfection, if I ever did, with one exception: I wanted a perfect body, and I worked reeeeealllly hard to get it. Every day, I ran to the gym from my house, worked out for a minimum of an hour, ran back home, ate a fat-free dinner, walked the dog before lights out and wore a size 6. I ran half-marathons, and when I wasn’t running them I was training to run them.
That ain’t happenin’ now, for sure.
I sat down this morning to compose an update to my last post about the water and HVAC problems I’ve had this month. But as posts [and writing in general] are wont to do, the direction has already shifted.
Update: The air conditioning works. The water leak has been resolved, but the system still has air in it, causing explosive jets of air mixed with water to spew from faucets, commodes, and hoses. Perfection is fleeting, but excitement abounds here at Chez Say Yes!
Giving up the pursuit of body perfection has resulted in a body that I can’t quite accept. I still think I have time to whip it back into shape – despite having a complete hip replacement and a shoulder that constantly barks at me to slow down, take it easy, ask for help. And despite being halfway to my 80s. Will I ever stop thinking about how I look? Probably not, honestly. It’s not like a switch I can toggle off and on at will.
Seeking a better body is as embedded in my psyche as progress-not-perfection. And the irony is not lost on me.
And yet … I recently said yes to standing at a microphone in front of a small gathering to talk about self-publishing, along with the friend whose book I designed and helped him publish.
Would I have done that half a lifetime ago? I would not. The very idea of being so … visible … in all my imperfection was horrifying to me. So I guess I am more accepting of my shell now than I was when I was far younger and simply overweight, not yet obese.
And I was comfortable in front of that group, speaking into that mic. Which was astonishing to me. I wasn’t nervous, or unsure of myself. My experience with the subject at hand bolstered my confidence. The questions posed by members of the audience weren’t always ones I could answer, but offered an opportunity for thoughtful discussion. I saw old friends and met new ones.
Do I wish I could focus less on how I present myself to the world? Absolutely. Do I put myself out there anyway? Abso-fucking-lutely.
The entire endeavor was fun.
And since that’s a big part of my whole ‘say yes’ mission, I’d have to say the mission was accomplished.
The event took place at A New Chapter bookstore in Lewisburg, West Virginia. Many thanks to the helpful and efficient staff for taking such good care of us. If you happen to be in the area, be sure to stop by and browse the books, games, and gifts, have a coffee, tea, or snack, and enjoy some quiet time in a warm and lovely space.
I think it's so incredibly hard to achieve body acceptance as a woman!! Almost every single image we see is working against us.