The fallacy of ‘friend’ and ‘enemy’

The words ‘friend’ and ‘enemy’ are very emotive. They rouse such strong emotional responses from us. We think there is a method in our deciding in which category people ‘fit’ into, we think we are clear on what the words mean to us. Nope, sorry, I bet you’re wrong. Allow me to demonstrate.

Call to mind an ‘enemy’. What makes you categorise them that way? Did they hurt you, ignore you, hurt your loved one, do something unscrupulous?

Call to mind a ‘friend’. Think of why you call them ‘friend’. Have they supported you, been kind to you, shared your life with you, advised you well, shown you compassion?

Call to mind someone who fits neither of these categories, someone you are ‘indifferent’ to. Why are you indifferent to them? Have they faded from your life, do they live far away, have you lost touch with them?

Now, just to screw with your mind;

Call to mind your ‘enemy’. Can you recall a time that they were supportive, kind, compassionate or in any other way a ‘friend’ to you?

Call to mind your ‘friend’. Can you recall a time that they hurt or ignored you or a time when they were unscrupulous or in any other way acted as your ‘enemy’?

Call to mind the person to whom you are now indifferent. Can you recall a time when they were either a ‘friend’ or ‘enemy’ to you?

Each of us fall into the category of ‘friend’, ‘enemy’ & ‘indifferent’. Each of us are selfish. Everybody does the best they can with what they have. Every body unintentionally, and intentionally, hurts others. Each of us are capable of life-changing kindness and compassion. Each of us chooses our ‘friends’ and ‘enemies in the same arbitrary nature with which we chose teams in the school yard.

Perhaps if all focused less on the boxes we have put people in we would live in a more compassionate, understanding, kind world. What do you think?

Bras

Our bras, ladies say a lot about us. Any male readers already know this. And, no, I don’t mean that a red bra says  that you’re sexy and a tan bra means your boring or safe. The print, colour and material of your bras are a personal choice – that’s not what I’m talking about.

Your bra supports your breasts. Yes, thank you captain obvious. Our breasts are, for most women, integral to their sense of femininity. You disagree? Speak to a women who has undergone a mastectomy or women who has had a breast reduction about how the operation has affected their femininity. Our breasts are a sensual, integral part of our womanhood.

Just writing those words I feel the wave of resistance and objections flying at me through the web. But, I honestly believe it is true. I hated my breasts for as long as I can remember. They were always too big, too saggy, too heavy. That was even before I fell pregnant and then they were too sensitive, too sore and downright enormous – no stores would stock bras in my size (Yes my partner was stoked, I on the other hand broke down in tears right there in the store). Breastfeeding is another saga altogether. All I am saying is that I hear your objections, but accepting my breasts feels better.

We are taught that our breasts are only beautiful if they look plastic. We are not taught how to appreciate our breasts. They are soft and warm, regardless of the weather your breasts radiate heat. The skin is some of the softest on our bodies. They are capable of pleasure and adorned with our glamest top and stunning beads they can be hypnotizing – regardless of their size. There is so much to love about our breasts aside from their size and shape, but alas, they are most womens’ hang-ups.

I was buying new bras on the weekend and can vouch that a great bra can boost your self esteem and totally change your figure. But what shocked me were the conversations I was overhearing in the change room. 3 women were being properly fitted by professionals. Each of the women was recommended a bra and a size that would fit them perfectly. Each woman chose a different bra to the recommendations. Why? Because they were planning on losing weight and so preferred to squish their breasts into a too small bra than to have a bra that was too big if and when they lost weight.

Isn’t that insane? To me it’s like saying ‘no’ to a date with the man of your dreams today, because you are planning on snagging the perpetual bachelor George Clooney next month! The likelihood that these women (none of whom looked at all overweight) would ever be truly happy with their weight and body shape is arguably slim. I mean, are you? But still they, and indeed so many of ‘us’, would prefer to continue to strive and punish ourselves trying to fit into an imaginary ideal than to work what we have.

What I am really trying to say: Give up the need for it to be different to what it is. Love what you have got, work what you have got. You will loose it one day and wish you had treated it better and enjoyed it more.

Solid ground

Getting your footing is a double edged sword. It is a beginning and an end. A life raft & a trap. It is a welcome reprieve from running in shifting sand, the earth crumbling beneath you, keeping you moving constantly searching out something firmer, safer. Ironically, as soon as we feel solid ground beneath our weary feet and calm breathing replaces our panicked panting we begin to move again. Even if we are taking a well trodden path there is no telling when the earth beneath our feet will give way again. Or else we stay here too long, clinging to the relative safety until the wind and weather erodes our rock and the earth shifts beneath us yet again.

For the longest part of my teenage years I never wanted the house in the suburbs, the husband or the kids. The prospect of my life revolving around nappy changes, bills and constant compromising of my wants and needs crushed my burgeoning spirit. Yet here I am. The perfect lesson of ‘you become what you most fear’. But I’m happy none the less. Proof that when you release your judgements you can learn to love anything.

I took a few Big risks around 19-20, they blew a massive hole in my life plan – the solid ground gave way to shifting sand. I found safe ground when the first risk paid off with a solid career in banking. I ran head long into shifting sand when I moved interstate, abandoning my career, to begin life with my boyfriend of 4 months (my second risk). I found solid ground again and really enjoyed our time in self imposed exile together. Since then the earth has fallen away and I have ran to and from solid ground many times.

Something I know for sure is that if you get too comfortable somewhere your rock will turn to sand and force you to move on, to grow.

I feel like I have been on solid ground for a little while now and I am feeling the gentle warning tremors on the earth readying itself to move. In the past I have been the one to run into the next challenge. From the outside looking in I’m told it appears fearless (or stupid). In reality it is a compulsion to grow & develop.

This time I find myself wanting to cling to now; to watch my son at this beautiful age forever, to live by the beach, to continue to have family as our focus as we quietly build the foundations of our lives. But alas, the winds of change are rustling in the leaves. I don’t know what they will bring.