Bursts of Colorful Spring

As I write this, it's snowing outside, but yesterday was one of those beautiful days where spring is rustling around you, and you wear your winter coat with the buttons unbuttoned, and you wish you had  your sunglasses with you. It was one of those days where you think that maybe, just maybe, this is the last day you will wear your winter coat.

We had a fun day yesterday. The hubs and I did some exploring in Northeast DC, an area of the city that I know very little about. The purpose of our journey was to check out Fort Totten, but since that area is mainly residential with not much going on, we ended up hopping up one metro stop to Takoma.

Ah, Takoma.

This neighborhood has some major cuteness. We passed an intriguing antiques store that sadly was not open, an alluring shop with Turkish jewelry and scarves, and a promising bistro. We strolled down the street, excitedly pointing out our new surroundings, saying things like, "Oh, my dad would love that," and "What a pretty library!" It gave us such a good feeling, and even though the hustle and bustle of the city seemed worlds away, I felt okay with that. The colors popped out at me, and they made me believe that spring was here.

Crumbling, Abandoned, and Beautiful

The hubs and I at Michigan Central Station in Detroit

Photo Credit: Von Wormer Photography

Photo Credit: Von Wormer Photography

I'm not exactly sure why, but I love abandoned, rundown buildings. I love the ones with broken windows, sagging doorways, and trees growing inside. I love their eerie stillness, and I love their sadness. I love them.

There's an element of romance to these buildings that makes me imagine what they must have been like during the times they possessed more life than the birds nesting in their beams. It makes me imagine how different they might have looked when somebody was putting love into their upkeep. Would these structures still make me pause, and would they still make me gaze up with wonder if they were not abandoned?

There's just something about Michigan Central Station that is so beautiful and tragic to me, which I suppose could be said about much of Detroit in general. This place in particular used to be the city's train hub, but it eventually shut its doors in the late 80s after years of dwindling passenger service and the departure of Amtrak. This massive building, once a space of hustle and bustle, is now just so quiet. I've never been inside since that's a tad illegal, and I would be too scared of falling through a rotting floor, but I swoon over photos taken by urban explorers, each frame exposing me to the beauty that has found a way to survive amidst neglect. 

The city is supposedly working to renovate the building by removing asbestos and starting on the massive repairs needed after years of abandonment. Who knows if MCS will ever open its doors again? I just hope that a building this beautiful finds a way to stick around and stay strong.

Sunday Currently : 9

What a weekend! Today is the hubs' 28th birthday, and we went out last night to the Bier Baron, formally known as the Brickskeller, for a casual evening of beers and burgers with our friends. After everyone settled in, that quickly devolved into more beers than burgers, playing pool, and the hubs befriending a duo of Norwegian dudes who broke his heart by not believing that his family is part Norwegian. It was a ridiculous night and very fun, so we're all moving a bit slow this morning. Note to self: Drink more water!

This morning is another meeting of Brunch Club with my girlfriends, so I will be bouncing off to Oyamel for delicious Mexican fare, hopefully working in a quick run later this afternoon, and then taking the hubs out to birthday dinner at El Centro DF. I love birthdays, and I'm really enjoying celebrating with the hubs today. Hurrah!

reading : A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Still. I'm about halfway through now, and it's getting easier, but I think it's safe to say that this book just doesn't thrill me. I'm next in the queue to get Beautiful Darkness from the library, and I hope that it comes in the next couple of days!

writing : Not much besides this post. I'm not sure what I want to do for posts this week, though since I have off from my clinical placement this week, I'm hoping to work through my Project DC list a little bit. 

listening : To The Wire playing in the background. We're on the third season now after taking a very long hiatus, and I'm glad that we're back to it. What a great show! The hubs and I somehow never watch shows like this when they're on the air and end up getting into it a few years after they've ended. Better late than never. :)

thinking : Of what I'm in the mood for at brunch. I remember loving whatever I had last time we went there for brunch, but the details of what we ordered are hazy. Looks like I'll just have to experiment all over again! 

smelling : Fried eggs and coffee. Mmmm.

wishing :  For a well-timed metro train. With weekend track work, it's very unpredictable when the next train will be, and I hope I'm not waiting on the platform for a long time. This girl needs her brunch!

hoping :  That I get to play around with our camera during our short jaunt up to Maine later this week. I've never been before, so I'm looking forward to exploring a new area. I think that they're also getting some snow up there, so I'm excited for some beautiful, white powder!! My love affair with snow was sorely lacking this winter in DC. Maine, don't disappoint me. 

wearing :  My trusty black Minnies, a new navy gingham shirt, and a pair of gold earrings from Turkey that I thought I had lost but found in a cardboard box yesterday while cleaning. Oh, the joys of hidden treasures!

loving :  The hubs! :) 

wanting :  Juice of some kind. This is kind of random, I know, but as I write this, I'm really thirsty and keep thinking about fresh-squeezed orange juice. Mmmm. 

needing :  To get moving so I'm not dreadfully late for brunch. I am multitasking like whoa this morning! 

feeling :  Sleepy and dehydrated, but very happy. The hubs and I have such a nice group of friends, and on weekends like this when I get to see them a lot, it feels good to be reminded of how wonderful they are. Laughter is good for the soul. :)

clicking :  On news about the current state of Detroit (here, here, and here). This is the hubs' hometown, and though I don't love it as much as he does, it makes both of us really sad to see what's happening. There are so many promising changes happening in the city, but the reality is that it is also in serious trouble. Le sigh. Detroit, hang in there!

Join the Sunday Currently link-up with Lauren!

My Body Manifesto

What would you put in your body manifesto? What do you declare for yourself? What are your rights, and what do you deserve?

The Numbers Behind Eating Disorders

Today, let's talk statistics.

(via)

About 20 million women in the United States will have an eating disorder at some point in their life. Of those, about 95% are females between the ages of 12 and 25, and the number of inpatient hospitalizations, meaning treatment for people whose disorders have made them medically unstable or psychologically unable to commit to safety (i.e. suicidality), for people above the age of 35 is on the rise.

What do these numbers mean? They mean that eating disorders aren't going away. They are not limited to White teenagers, and they are not a problem of the rich. Eating disorders are mental illnesses, and mental illness knows no boundaries when it comes to socioeconomic status, race, ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation.

I often hear a lot of blame from people who don't understand EDs. They say things like, "Why doesn't she just eat a hamburger?" or "They just want attention-- how pathetic!" Statements like these assume that EDs are all about food (they're not) and that it is easy for somebody with an ED to simply alter their behavior and get over it (it's not). For many people, eating disorders signal that the individual is struggling to regulate their emotional experiences in a healthy way. The food becomes the target and a symptom, but to say that it stops there grossly underestimates the complexity of the human experience. The food becomes a symbol, a way of punishing one's self and of numbing out from the world. Too little food? I didn't deserve to eat, anyway. Binge eating to the point of physical discomfort? I needed to comfort myself somehow. Purging afterwards? I didn't deserve that comfort, anyway. (Please note that restricting, binge eating, and purging can mean different things for different people. These are just examples and in no way are meant to represent everybody's experience with an eating disorder.)

I fear that if we don't change the way we talk about eating disorders, obesity, and body image, we are setting ourselves up for a very unhealthy world. I feel horror and sadness when I think that 81% of 10-year-olds fear being fat. Do you know what I feared when I was 10 years old? That I would do something stupid in front of the boy I had a crush on. That my piano teacher would realize I hadn't practiced my piece that week. That recess would be cut short that day. Weight never entered the picture, but sadly, weight is more and more the focus of young people's environments.

Eating disorders are the most deadly mental illness. More people die from anorexia nervosa than any other mental illness. Period. This is a very serious disorder, and we don't benefit from pretending that it's not.

Eating disorders aren't just limited to women, either. Boys and men can develop eating disorders, too, and they most certainly can engage in disordered eating behaviors. We don't tend to talk about them because we assume they are immune to body concerns, but that might just be part of the problem. Our assumptions are wrong, and men suffer at the expense of our silence.

(via)

Did you realize that about 40% of men are dissatisfied with their bodies? We tend to view men as being detached and buffered from body criticism, but the truth is that they are facing increasing pressure to be fit, muscular, and rock-solid. Most men just can't naturally attain that ideal. How many men are silently berating themselves for failing to meet that unrealistic standard?

What's even more unsettling for me is that while ten million men in the United States will at some point suffer from an eating disorder, they are far less likely than women to seek treatment-- only one in ten men with an eating disorder will seek treatment.  Even if they do ask for help, they face limited treatment options since most treatment facilities are for women only. While a formal treatment facility isn't a necessary treatment option for everyone with an eating disorder, what are men supposed to do if their illness is severe enough to warrant more intensive care?

The numbers behind eating disorders are scary. These are serious illnesses, and we need to take them seriously. Spread the word. Be informed.

What statistics stand out to you? What do you make of them?

Dear Body

Dear Body,

Thanks for getting me through the past 27 years! We've had some rough moments, but you never gave up on me, and here we are. I appreciate you now in a way that I don't think I realized was possible before. You are healthy, and though you could probably be stronger, you're pretty resilient. I think of you as part of me now. I've learned to accept you more fully and stop criticizing you. What would the point of that be? You're the only body I've got, and it wouldn't be fair to you if I didn't accept you. I can tell we're both happier when I accept and stop judging.

I'm trying to listen to you more. I know you need rest, so I'm going to let you sleep at normal times. I know you need to pushed, though, too, so I'm going to try to make you stronger. I can tell you like when we go running because you give me so much energy afterwards, and you make me feel more alert. Thanks for that, body. Sometimes we both need a jumpstart. I'm trying to feed you in the ways you need and to be more consistent. I know you like when I pack snacks in my bag, body, so I'll keep doing that for the times we get stuck on the metro for too long. Snacks are good.

I'm sorry for the times I didn't take good care of you. You deserved better than that. We're both stronger now, and I promise to value you. Nobody's perfect, and I shouldn't get angry with you for being human. Thanks for not getting angry with me for being human, either.

Feet, you bring me around to so many great places. We like to walk as much as possible, and even when you're tired, you keep on going. I try not to make you wear uncomfortable shoes, and I think we both agree that sometimes sneakers are really the best thing ever invented.

Wrists, I've been unkind to you lately. I know you don't like when I play on my laptop in bed and make you rest at weird angles. I need to work on this, wrists, and I just ask that you hang in there.

Calves, I really like you. We've always gotten along. You're strong and help me leap around, and even when I stopped dancing, you reminded me of what I was capable of.

Breasts, I've probably been the hardest on you. You get in the way sometimes, and I've spent a lot of energy hating you and wishing you away. I'm sorry. As far as boobs go, you really are pretty great, and I'm sorry that I made you feel bad. We've started to reconcile in the past couple of years, and I think we're on our way to getting along more often.

Hair, you are totally crazy, but I now realize that you just reflect my personality. I tried to make you flat and straight, but that just isn't who you are. You like to be wild and untamed and curly, and I respect that. We've had a lot more fun together once I realized who you really were.

Body, I think we both know now that there is no such thing as being perfect. There's no perfect body, and there's no perfect woman. Even so, I love you. We're committed to each other, you and I, and life is so much better when we work together. Thanks, body, for getting me here and joining me on my adventures. I couldn't have done this without you.

Mindfulness

Close my eyes.

Breathe.

Pay attention.

Listen.

Worries, worries, worries, weaving through my mind, wind whipping them around as they bounce off the walls. Worries, worries, worries.

Breathe.

Thoughts like leaves floating on a stream, bobbing along the surface, slowly passing by.

Notice them. Let them pass. More will come. Let them pass.

Pay attention.

My forehead is pinched, my jaw is tense, my shoulders drawn in. Notice it. Realize. Relax.

How long have I been tense like that? Gentle curiosity, nonjudgment, awareness.

Listen.

Feel more connected. Cars driving by, the swoosh of tires over wet pavement, a child singing outside. So much life everywhere.

Open my eyes.