Friday, January 29th, 2010
lightening up

It can be so easy to assume that we are the only ones struggling, the only ones who are trying to carve out a space for ourselves and then being met with challenges. While the voices that tell us that we are alone/the only one might not be the same as those that directly criticize us for not doing/being/having more, I think it all comes from the same place. At the end of the day, the internalized messages that we are not doing/being/having more are about separation–separating ourselves from others–and the messages about being alone, that other people’s outsides are an accurate reflection of their insides, are also about separation.
Wednesday, I had a rough day. It had been a rough couple of days, compounded in part because I’d thrown out my neck the week before and it kept aching and spasming and I was not really sure what was wrong or why it was not responding to ice, heat, aleve, etc. I had a doctor’s appointment scheduled but couldn’t get in until Thursday. Then I had a phone call that left me feeling drained and depleted and sad, and I noticed that the old story of not enoughness was starting to play in my head.
I decided to get out of the house.
Now, I don’t know what you need when you’re having a rough day, but I do know that there is one place that usually serves to lift my spirits a bit. Is it some kind of life coach cafe? Nope. Peet’s? Not since I gave up the sauce a few weeks ago. Zen center? Not at all.
It’s Anthropologie.
Now here’s the thing. Sometimes, the Anthropologie lust going round the internet gets on my nerves, because a.) their clothes are ridiculously expensive, and b.) they’re not better quality. A few years ago I was on this whole kick of “better to buy quality that lasts” and spent quite a pretty penny there, and have found that the things I get from Anthro aren’t necessarily better quality. Also, I tend to find it harder to pull of the complete Anthro hobo look without looking frumpy–there are only so many layers I can wear before I’ve officially added ten pounds to my (already curvy) frame.
But the thing is, Anthropologie is just total eye-candy. All the way. Without a doubt. The colors, the patterns, the textures…even with the stuff I know I’d never wear, there’s almost always something incredibly beautiful about it. And, of course, there’s always the off chance that on the sale rack there will be that perfect marked down sweater or dress. This dress was $30, snagged when I was aimlessly wandering around an Anthro store:

And I’m glad that it was only $30, because if I had paid more than that for a dress where I’m perpetually hiding my bra straps because the shoulder sleeves don’t stay in place, I’d be kinda annoyed.
But I digress: The point is that, of all places, Anthropologie–with its color and perky music and eye for design–hits my synapses in just the right way when I am feeling a little worn, a little world-weary, a little in need of inspiration and desiring a place to get out of the house before I go stir crazy. I have been known to go on one Anthropologie walking trip with one friend and then turn around and go on another walking trip with another friend.
On Wednesday, I headed over to Anthropologie because I felt acutely conscious that if I didn’t, I’d be not just visiting Funkytown, but taking up a residence. I should say that all of this is practice. It is practice to notice that I’m in a Funkytown funk that won’t go away just by ignoring it, and it’s practice to actually get my toosh out the door (and not do the self-critical thing: “Why can’t you just get over it?” or push myself to try and adopt some perky affirmation before I feel actually ready to do that).
Anthropologie helped, but I noticed I still felt a little down and it was then that I toddled into a nearby Paper Source (another good store for visual inspiration and uplift) and espyed a package of self-adhesive mustaches. Here is how The Brain reacted:
That would be fun.
You can’t get those.
What would be the point.
Waste of money.
But wouldn’t it be hilarious?
What if you bought them?
What if you walked around in them while you were still at the shops?
Do it.
Dude, you so have to do this.
DO IT!
You’ll feel like a total fool.
That’s not true–you actually don’t give a shit. It would just be silly to wear a mustache. Do it!
– And with that, a smile crossed my lips and I knew that I was on to something. I bought them and tried on the first, The Hollywood. I liked it. I hopped into my car and drove down the highway heading back home, and was laughing the whole time, feeling more rested and restored.
All of it practice–practice in noticing what I needed in a given moment. Practice in seeing resistance to that crop up and practice in diving in. I simply could not take myself seriously any longer.
Sometimes when I step into a space like that for myself, the resistance that crops up tells me that I’m being “fake,” that it’s “fake” to embrace happiness in this way. I try to just notice how that is another piece of separation, and that when I’m choosing to step into something, it usually doesn’t feel good right away. At first, it usually feels forced until I find my rhythm with it.
I’m curious to know–when you’ve had a challenging day, is there a particular place that you head to, or a particular store that you go to? I know another thing that I have liked doing in the past was gathering up my books on Italy and going to a tea shop and just drinking tea and reading about Italy, or practicing Italian. Maybe your thing is trashy magazines, the local outdoor jungle gym, or just packing a bag and getting the hell outta dodge. What’s your M.O. for shifting?
P.S. Registration is still ongoing for Across Mediums, which starts in two weeks!



















