Please read syllabus below!
This first assignment is a longer than those that will follow. This assignment is taken from a fantastic book on experiential anatomy entitled BodyStories, by Andrea Olsen.
Write a personal bodystory. This story may include:
-the story or your birth (pre-birth if possible; the health and activities of your mother affect life in the womb)
-your earliest memory (earliest kinesthetic sensation you can remember. Examples: being rocked, learning to swim, bouncing on your parent's knee, falling from a tree, riding a bicycle)
-training techniques (sports, dance, gymnastics, musical instruments)
-environments where you lived (mountains, plains, forests, oceans all affect how you move, how you perceive)
-comments you heard about yourself which shaped your body image ("Oh, what a cute chubby child? Stand Up Straight! He's going to be tall like his dad. Children are seen and not heard.")
-attitudes towards sensuality, sexuality; gender images
-injuries, illnesses, operations
-nutrition, relationship to body weight, strength, flexibility
-anything else that interests you.
*in this public forum, please share only what you feel comfortable sharing.
38 comments:
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I grew up in bare feet, in fact, I am not even able to recall a single childhood memory when I had shoes on. Perhaps that is not entirely true, I do have memories when I am sure my parents would have made me wear shoes, but that does not change the fact that I remember my childhood as shoeless. The feel of the earth under my feet returns to me when I imagine the gravel road I grew up on; dry, rough yet gentle, and a bit uneven. I used to take my dog for walks down that dirt road. My feet would change and mold according to the earth under me, I did not mark it, it marked me. We would change paces often, she and I, running one moment, then slowing, maybe abruptly stopping; it was all dependent upon what one of us had found. I felt gangly in my limbs yet free in my body. I never noticed the ground I walked on, it became so familiar, I never even looked down to check where my next step would be placed. I trusted in my movement, in where my body and mind would take me; all that mattered was the moment I was in. -Kimble
Since I was little, I have always loved the water. One day, about a week after I turned four, I stepped into our backyard and walked towards the pool. I took off my sandals and slowly dipped my feet into the water; I was in awe of the cool feeling that I felt in between my toes. After some time, my curiosity heightened, and I felt the sudden urge to learn how to swim. I ran inside, dragged my dad into our backyard, and begged him to teach me how to swim. The first time I got in the water, I was at peace. I didn't know how to swim, yet I was calm. My dad told me to submerge my head in the water and practice exhaling under water. In other words, I was learning how to blow bubbles! Once I mastered that, we moved on to the arms and legs, where I assumed the superman position and learned how to rotate my body. The most difficult part for me was having faith that I was not going to drown. There were times when I felt like I did not have a single ounce of oxygen left in my lungs and my body was about to give up. However, every time that happened, I was able to see the end of the pool and felt a new wave of energy coming out of my body, pushing me to finish the lap. Before I knew it, I was gliding back and forth with ease, letting go of all my worries and just focusing on the clarity of the water. - F. Widjaja
For as long as i can remember, i've always been a curious person, exploring my surroundings in search for something new. i started walking when i was about 10 months old, says my parents and from then on, my house turned chaotic. i used to rummage through garbage cans, toilets, ovens and refrigerators and everything else i could crawl into. Being that i have a family of 8 other siblings, the house was already crazy as it was. My family was really into fishing at nearby lakes and hotspots. so one time at the docks of lake washington, we were fishing and i was feeding the ducks in the water with bread, i was about 6 years old at the time. the next thing i knew, i flew in the water and started to drown. that was my first time "swimming"... although i technically was drowning. some time soon after i was engulfed in the water, my mother noticed i wasn't with them and saw that i was in the water, my dad immediately saved me, my life was spared. i almost drowned because i couldn't let go of the bread while i was feeding the ducks. From then on, i've never really learned how to swim... -Roger Chao
I didn't believe I was having a baby. Sure I had seen the ultrasounds and felt her sliding around against my belly, but I still didn't believe I was actually having a baby. Mosquitos were buzzing around my head in the Mombasa hospital that night. There was thunder and lightening outside. I just wanted to be alone, to breathe, in the dark, her and I, just taken away in my visualization. I was a bird, flying over the ocean. I flew right into downtown Manhattan. There were so many things to see. So many details to observe...Suddenly I felt so much pressure. I couldn't stop her. breathe, push, open, sleep, breathe, push, open, sleep and I am scared. I can't do this, I can't do this.....and done. She's beautiful. I'm done. and I close my eyes and she is brought to suckle. And I never knew my body could do so much without the chatter of my mind yelling directions. -S. Jeneby-Wilson
The earliest memory I have is of my grand mother when I was a child. I was lying on my bed trying to sleep and my grandmother walked in and sat beside my bed. She held my hands and started telling me a story. I remember her big brown eyes looking into my eyes, her kind smile lighting up the room and her lovable face. She was holding my hands as she was telling me a story about a princess and her prince. I remember feeling her warm hands holding my hands and occasionally touching my eyebrows. She knew about the way my mom made me sleep. My mom used to slide her finger on my eyebrows gently bushing them. It really worked and I was asleep instantly. Even now I sometimes do it to myself to make me fall asleep faster. That is what my grand mother used to make me sleep. She brushed my eyebrows gently with her fingers and kissed my forehead a couple of times. My sense of touch was dominating my sense of hearing and that is why I don't remember hearing the rest of her story. That was the last and the only memory I have of her. Unfortunately she died of cancer when I was four years old. She has a special place in my heart and I am glad that I was lucky enough to remember that few moments we spent together. ~Afsoon Fazeli
8 years young, gazing at the mass of flesh that was my “self” in the form of a reflection. I never inhabited time or space like everyone around me—the flesh and bones of my being were real but
limitless
infinity
mildly inconsequential. I wondered how my life would change when my body looked like what a “woman” should—breasts (large but not saggy), hips (curvy but not fat), flowing hair (long but not too long and not scraggly), delicate arms (not too skinny, certainly not too strong. Never too strong. Never Too Strong)
The perfect picture of womanhood; the essentials for attaining my ultimate goal. A man, my prince more specifically, that is just what I needed.
My mind delighted at the thought—I wanted it. I wanted it now. Surely it would come soon! Already 8 years into life! I needed to live: I needed to wait. But the breasts and the hips and the hair never came, or when they did they were wrong! THIS ISN’T HOW THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO BE! Too small too frizzy, not straight enough. A little disproportionate. Crooked feet. Forhead too big. Arms too scrawny. Bump in the nose. Too pale. Too plain. Pumpkin teeth. Fat cheeks. Giraffe neck. Too small to bony too small
The following 8 years were in pursuit of some stable happiness, some way to change the curb appeal of the physical inhabitation of my soul....
I
Suffocated
in training bras padded bras pushup bras demi bras lacy bras shaving crème hair straighteners hair curlers hair smoothers foundation thongs lipstick finger polish perfume facial masks hairspray tampons eyelash curlers padded bras pushup bras padded bras
I betrayed my body. Years and years of pursuit and I betrayed my very being.
I’m sorry body.
-L. O'Neill
Sage brush, pine trees, forest fire smoke, and the knapweed and flowers called baby’s breath. Every time I return home, I soak in the warmth and smells of my childhood summers on my parent’s ranch. Not to say that the chill air, snow, and smells of burning snowmobile oil aren’t equally gratifying in my remembrance. But the summers were full of dogs barking, horses fighting through the fence or neighing to each other across the road, or to me for some food. I would spend my extra hours in the barn, filled with the stinging, fresh scent of alfalfa; building hay forts and taming barn cats or chasing my brothers and their friends as they avoided the little sister by running up the hills and climbing trees. At the end of the day, washing off hay and dust. Remembering, horse rides that ended in a downpour of rain. Not the moldy Seattle rain, but a clear and fresh storm that pounded and raised the dust. What a wonderful sensation: Soaked hair, warm and sticky clothes with the house just in sight at the bottom of the hill. The summer rain showers of a mostly—desert landscape. The landscape that cradled my every experience until adulthood.
-Jessica
Cuddled up in blankets in the passenger seat pretending to be asleep, I listened to my dad hum along to the Beatles and to the sound of the cars engine that somehow always seemed to hum in perfect unison. I would lay there patiently waiting for the car to slow to a stop and for my dad to take the keys out of the ignition. That is how I knew we were finally there. Peeking my eyes out of the window at the snow covered ground I’d watch people grabbing their skis or snowboards as they slid on their hats and gloves. I loved this part. I’d hurry my dad as he buckled my ski boots and when we were finally ready we would walk through the snow covered parking lot and up the brick paved walkways to the bottom of the lift. It was a big deal when we were near the front of the line. That meant that we would be the first to ski the untouched snow. Giggling on the chairlift, chewing on half frozen power bars, and chatting with my dad and whoever else had decided to come along that day; this was how I grew up. For as long as I can remember, every winter weekend this same process was repeated. The only thing that ever really changed was the length of my skis and the size of my ski clothes. I never got tired of it. And now, whenever there is a winter weekend that I can make it home, you’ll still find me cuddled up in blankets pretending to be asleep, patiently waiting for the car to stop.
-Emily Stromme
“One day I’m going to come in here to wake you up and realize I have a horse for a daughter instead of a girl...” I remember my mom telling me this one morning when I was about ten years old. While this may sound insulting or rude, it was anything but considering my extreme love for horses. My life revolved around them.
I started riding horses when I was three years old I am told, but I don’t really have any specific memories of riding until I was five years old. I had started to become much more confident and wanted to go faster, but my pony did not and she bucked me off, and though it hurt and scared me my mom made me get back on. From that point forward I never let getting bucked off stop me from riding, I always got back on.
But my connection with horses went deeper than just riding them. If I wasn’t riding my horse, I was talking to her, petting her, or grooming her. Furthermore, I often pretended with my sister or my best friend that I was a horse: whinnying, galloping about and nuzzling my “owner” who was either my friend or sister depending on who I was playing with.
I truly have felt a deep connection with all of our horses. I have always thought that I could understand what it was they were thinking or trying to tell me, and it seems like I have always known how to move my body and present myself to them to portray what it is I am trying to say and to gain their trust.
So when my mom said that she thought I might wake up as a horse one day I somewhat believed her and even took it as a compliment. But here I am, still human, and still very happy that I have had the opportunity to interact with horses. I would not be who I am today without them.
– Miranda Schmidt
My mother and I came to know each other in the flesh two and a half months before anyone expected. I was ready to be in the world, and though it stunned the doctors and my dad, my mom said she knew that I couldn’t wait nine months. I arrived healthy but small, two pounds to be exact and that worried the community….I put on an adequate amount of weight in my first months in the world and my relationship with movement commenced.
Growing up next to Mt. Tamalpais, Stinson Beach and Bolinas on the Northern California coast, the landscape was my playground from a very young age. Hikes amongst Redwoods and trips to the beach where I would immerse myself in the salty brilliance of the Pacific bore in me a love of wild places.
I was(am) an active person. Was it inspired, encouraged or pressured by my parents? Or was it individually motivated? From tap dancing at a very young age, to competing on the swim team, playing basketball and soccer as well as running cross-country; we cannot remember, but I did participate in these diverse active endeavors; always moving from one activity to the next.
One might assume that with all this exposure to movement in varied ways that I was connected to my body, but mother culture’s pressure invited me to separate myself from my soma and I was always trying to better it, change it, improve it, “because then everything would be perfect.”
It wasn’t until La Finca Argayall, where I started dancing for my self, my soma, uninhabited by any cultural pressure or ultimate goal that I slowly started to come into my self, my soma.
Through movement I,
…discover a homespace, play in unknown territory, explore pleasure, pain, longing, lust, a child-like innocence, a playfulness that inspires joy in me, inviting wisdom, and connection to self and to the divine.
-L. Goldberg
I sense that I have always been on the move; I have been told that I was quite active even before birth, turning and kicking most of every day. Another thing I know from stories and life experience is that I have a very high pain threshold. I dislocated my shoulder and broke my arm during birth, yet it wasn't discovered until my two week check-up. I guess I was flinching every time I was being dressed, so they took an x-ray and found the break.
Basically, right from birth I began working through the pain. Through my gymnastics days, I constantly worked through pain. I once even competed a very difficult bar routine with a fractured arm (my mom noticed the pain on my face and made me go get it x-rayed). I have a fear of doctors; mostly because they always tell me I have to take a break to heal.
Another trait that seems to be born in me is the habit of going until I collapse from exhaustion. I am told that from the time I learned to crawl I never stayed in one place. I would just go until I fell asleep in exhaustion. My brother likes to tell a story about me falling asleep on a vacumn I was chasing. I think it is just born in me to fill every moment with motion.
Gymnastics has been my passion. My earliest videos show me walking on a brick wall at age one. From that time on, anything that involved tumbling, balancing, and swinging thrilled me. There is a video of my dad swinging me by my feet and he accidently hits my head on the ground. It makes me cringe to watch it, but I still wanted another turn as I rubbed my head. Of course that also shows how foolish I can be. Maybe that is why I am so much more a kinetic learner than any other type.
Dear Body,
Iridescent love, I am thou.
We were born a Horse, gusty with pleasure in December.
When we were young and when we were full, we were one; united and standing strong toward Father sun. I have grown from three mothers: they are you, the woman, and the earth. Bare feet touched below upon an unbarred Home. We chattered with sanguine sprites and budded with the booning bees. We glided through the cavern of summer's hot heart. We tatted fall's leaves onto winter trees, giving them the gift of the magi.
Our feverish dreams combed out patterns of breath and loss. I was a buried body, where beneath the soil we slipped. There, the world was a mine and we scoured for signs of light. When the dreams stopped, hands grew rust and gravity carried us down. I was not happy with us. I became a rebellious reflection, only desiring Your wind.
It is wicked that I divorced you, Great Mother. You were an innocent, turned from luster copper to green shadows.
I have remembered and forgotten each lesson you shared. Dust glazes the old mind, begeting our wishes and carrying them to galactic mires. I did not know the language of the land: I am a stranger! And, then the minds despairing spires, and so I learn.
You teach wisdom running as a river of limbs. Yes! and you teach me well. For now, I reach inward. Following my topography, I listen. I listen to the love that You offer to life. I waltz with you atop weathered words and wild wombs. We dance as partners. I am with you again, welcoming in the gateway of sleep and sorrow.
May you forgive us; we have forgotten you are the ground of our lives. May you bless us still with your whispers. May we still form sentences from sensation and dilute the stormy mind-waters with patience. May we wander through this life guided by the power of experience, abandoning ourselves to the lessons. May we give great reverence to the silent and abundant prophecies.
Now, I stand here rejoicing with my hands. They peel the onion, folding back golden layers to bright bulb.
Remembering the only worth is together and to share,
aa roesch-knapp
I couldn’t remember my earliest memory in my life, but I know that I have been raised in a good environment. I have my parent, my brothers, and also my grandma who loves me and take care of me. They give me the best memory in my life. I feel secure, warmth, and love every time I stay with them.
I was born in a big city, Bangkok, Thailand. Everyone in my family said that I was so chubby and looks alike to my dad. Before I was born, my mom planed to name me “Jan” because I born in the month of January. But after she saw my chubby cheek, she decided to change my nickname to “chubby” in Thai.
I like to swim and I remember that it was the first sport I learn. I learn how to swim when I was 7 years old. My grandma took me to a swimming pool in a high school around my house and I took a swimming course over there. I took the class and had been raised my skill until my teacher plan to support my for the competition among Bangkok school district. But unluckily, I wasn’t study in that high school, so I couldn’t be trained for the school athlete. However, I don’t mind because at least I had a great experience and know that I am at swimming too.
Pitchaya N.
This summer I become closer with my body that I had ever been before and it was wonderful. I was doing fieldwork in the Cascades Mountains in Southern Oregon, which entailed camping for two months close to our work sites. Living in a tent means going to sleep soon after the sun goes down and waking up soon after it rises. Its takes a bit of getting used to, but when your camping waking up is a nice excuse to get off your sleeping pad and to start your day. Looking back at it, it seems as though the whole summer was a meditation on work. I completely disconnected from the stories/frustrations I had been reciting to myself over the previous months. I found myself surrounded by a completely different setting ever before where lack of shaving and showering was the norm. It was the strangest thing, I had never felt that showering was an obligation before, but rather something that I wanted to do. But as I got deeper into the summer, I started to realize that when I didn’t expect myself to shower everyday I felt a new sort of freedom. It was like I was releasing myself from views that I had of how I should be living my life.
I also became really aware of what my body wanted in terms of food. Before I never thought of myself as someone who was very conscious of their weight, but I am very interested in eating healthy. Over the summer I become so relax that I just trusted my body’s instincts for what it needed. Instead of thinking what I should and should not be eating, I just ate what I had when I was hungry. In the city it is harder to do that because food is so abundant. There we only had what we had bought for the 8-day session.
It was also just wonderful living outside because I was just expected to use my body more. And also, work was very labor intensive. We often had hour long hikes into work, some which were on 45 degree slopes. I don’t know how else to explain, but this summer I was more connected with my body than I have been before and it was wonderful to be in that state. Part of the reason I am taking this course and yoga is to help me refind that connection to who I was a few months ago. After the guided meditation I was able to reflect on the summer and think about why I had enjoyed it so much.
-Joanne
As soon as the lights from the audience section turned pitch black, the different colored stage lights glared like bright sun. I can still feel the warmth of the lights that enriched my skin as I waited patiently to start my very first orchestra concert. I remember, I was very nervous even though I had practiced many nights and days. When I heard the first beat against the conductor’s stand, I nervously put up my violin in the stand up position. I held it under my chin, and grabbed the neck of the violin in one hand as I had my bow in the other. Carefully looking at my music, I slightly adjusted my fingers on the finger board, trying to hold the neck tightly with my thumb on the bottom and the rest of my fingers in their correct spots right on top of the strings. All of a sudden I felt a strange feeling in my body. I was excited, nervous, and happy at the same time. This feeling and the heat from the stage lights made my fingers sweat, so I held on to the smooth neck of my crimson violin very tightly to keep my fingers from sliding.
After about two seconds, the instructor started counting; “One, two, three,” and I started playing for the very first time in an orchestra concert. I played every black and white note as fast as my heart could beat. As I sled my bow against the strings, I felt the white powder rosin gradually fill the air around me and sit on my skin and violin. I felt that every note that the violinists played had a different color, and suddenly I could imagine a rainbow of colors on the stage. This mixed all my emotions into one, happiness. I was happy to see that I was playing so well, and that there was harmony amongst my violin and other instruments on that stage. Soon before I realized, I reached the last note, and with the finish of that, the crowd broke their silence into a great applause, and I saw my parents stand up to cheer for me. Seeing this reassured my body that I have the ability to become a great violinist, and to never again get nervous about an orchestra concert.
-Sahar Z.
Training Techniques - It seems that I have always been a learner of something and searching for training mostly in the arts, and more specifically in dance. One of my earliest memories is of the piano and dancing. My dad was a music teacher and we always had a piano. I remember him playing beautiful songs and me dancing to them right in front of that big piano. I also took piano lessons from him, but I much preferred dancing than practicing piano.
Another memory . . my parents were great dancers - especially the jitterbug and swing. When I was about 7 or 8, I remember that the usual thing to do after dinner and when dishes were done, my parents would put on dance music and they would dance in the living room. My sister and I were always encouraged to watch and learn the steps. One of the first steps I learned was how to jitterbug. This was the same year I began ballet.
Another training memory - When I started taking ballet, I wanted very much to be on toe so I could be a hotshot in the Nutcracker. The rule back then was you had to be a dedicated student for 4 years and then you could start on toe. So for the next 4 years, I took ballet classes twice a week and ended up in the Nutcracker 3 times which was quite fun. Then the big moment came when I was 12 to get toe shoes. I couldn't wait to put them on. Boy, did they hurt! It wasn't nearly as glamorous as I thought. Sadly, a month into taking toe classes, I was pulled aside and informed that my ankles were too weak and I wouldn't be able to continue taking toe classes. My dreams were shattered, but not for long. My dance teacher sent me to another teacher next door who taught jazz. This began my love affair with jazz dance which is, to this day, my favorite style of dance.
Fast forward to last summer. Another beautiful training moment . . I finally got to study with a jazz dance master whom I've admired for many years; Luigi. While I studied his technique many years ago, I never thought I'd have a chance to actually study with him. Last summer I signed up for his summer dance intensive and it basically changed my life. I have already signed up for next year's workshop. Anyone who can continue to dance and teach 6 days a week at age 84 is quite an inspiration to me.
I was always a quiet and obedient girl. I did everything my parents told me to do. And I usually enjoyed it too. My mother used to love to dress me up in frilly dresses, each with its own (usually rather large) matching bow to sit right at the back of my head. One sunny Sunday morning, I went to church with my family dressed in such attire. Although I looked positively adorable, the heat was making me quite uncomfortable. Yet, being the well-behaved non-fussy girl that I was, I sat still and bore the heat as best I could until we went back home. At home, we went out into our backyard to enjoy the sun. My father turned on the sprinkler solely for the purpose of watering the grass; spots were already beginning to turn into a crunchy brown matted area rather than the soft juicy green of a healthy lawn. My parents turned their backs on me for only a minute – they were still right there next to me, enclosed by our fenced in backyard, but they were engaged in conversation with one another. During this moment, my body finally broke free of my good girl mind. I knew I was still wearing my entire out: my pink dress with the white frills, my socks, my fancy pair of shoes. But my body no longer cared about any of that. It was hot. Before my parents could turn back around, I took off sprinting. My body was in control now and I let my mind go along with it. I finally hit the water. Or did it hit me? No matter. The only thing of importance was the cool touch of the water on my overheated skin. Bliss. Pure bliss. A smile formed across my face as I turned to face my parents, hair dripping, clothes soaked. I was happy with my spontaneous decision to listen to what my body was telling me it needed, instead of following my stifled mind. And my parents weren’t upset at all. On the contrary, they took out a camera to capture my smile.
- Lauren Cook
Like everyone else, I just have snapshots of [my] earliest memories. Snapshots in a sense that there are no feelings associated with them, my mind will just try its best to fake the feelings (since I can easily find two contradictory ones). It is only after 8th grade that I remember much, however, I do remember my 3rd grade because it was full of incidents (accidents to be sure).
I remember taking only the final examination in 3rd grade and spending all other time on holidays. First my mom got operated upon and it was a reason enough for me to take one month leave.
Next while dressing in the morning a piece of glass pricked my foot and I "just" removed it. However for the next month I continued to limp (apparently there was still some glass inside my foot). The doctor suggested taking x-ray of my foot and found that there was still something inside it! So the doctors gave me full anasthesia (which kept me unconscious for about 6-7 hours) and removed the powdered glass pieces from my foot.
Finally after a few months, I went to cycle in a pubic cycling park. There was a S-shaped overpass designed for children that had narrow curve while sloping down. I had never been on such a bridge (overpass) before, so I took my bike on the top and pedalled down (should not pedal while going down unless you know what you are doing!). I did not realize that at such speed it would require really fast reflexes to turn the bike around the curve and I hit straight into the side wall. Luckily the wall was quite thick, about as wide as a sitting bench. My cycle got stuck in the wall and I was thrown onto the wall. It was mere luck that I found myself sitting on the wall, while I could have fallen over to the side (which was still pretty high) or hit my head or something else in the wall. I was crying even though there was no sign of injury or pain at that time. My dad came running over and we realized there was a small hole in my pants around the middle thigh. It did not look serious, but as he took off my pants, my middle thigh literally lay open. I have never figured out how that might have happened but it seems as if the handle (the bike was the model with handle towards the person) could have been at the fault. The cut was like a valley, with red-white dottedly patched skin cells onto the sides and one could make out the (white) thigh bone in the middle (pretty deep too). It pretty much looked like the first cut made into watermelon. I do not remember seeing a lot of blood. My dad immediately called a traffic controller person and I was taken to the hospital on a motor cycle. I got about 9 stiches on my thigh and some injections.
My body totally changed from the beginning of the 3rd grade to the end. I went from one of the thinnest guys in the class to the fattest (couldn't even find my neck). It became very inflexible and I had hard time sitting on the floor. However, I was lucky to still feel my heart pumping blood (which is the loudest sound in a silent room). And yah, it wasn't after about three or four years that I was able to conquer that overpass.
-Paramjit Singh Sandhu
I've always felt most connected to two differing worlds, the forest, and the dance studio. In nature, smelling the subtleties of trees, flowers, earth, and such, I've always felt very peaceful. Nature does not judge as humans do, does not label, criticize, or reject, it simply is, and one connected to nature may simply be. In contrast, the world of dance is riddled with judgements, corrections, and qualifications. Rather than just existing in peace, the objective is to change, adjust, and grow through effort. Even so, as strenuous and demanding as dance generally is, I still feel at peace.
-Jessica (Mairi) Holtzner
One of the best memories I have about my body was when I first learned how to swim. I spent many of my childhood summer days at the pool. I began swimming lessons when I was around 4 years old. I was very small for my age and a lot smaller then the rest of the kids. I had a bright multi-colored swim suit that offset my tan skin, with my hair pulled back in a pony tail on the top of my head.
I can remember the warmth that the sun brought, and how it felt against my skin. My warm body against the cold pool water was a sensation that I loved. It was almost like a quick shock, but soon your body would adjust. After a while I got used to the water and enjoyed how it felt against my skin.
A challenge I faced when swimming was learning how to breathe underwater. I was scared to put my head under the water. But that was soon a fear that I had to overcome in order to advance in my lessons. The feeling when you put your head underwater for the first time is almost unexplainable. I was scared but didn’t want to be the only not able to do it. I took a deep breath and went under. I was in the water for only a second before I can up gasping for air. I immediately wiped the water away from my face but I had done it. Being underwater was so different. Everything seemed to move slower and my body felt like jello. I could move freely while underwater. I loved how it felt to swim around and do as I pleased.
This was one of the first instances where I became aware of my body and how it felt in different situations.
-Jasmine Boado
My body became its own being on August 12, 1987. There are two, vibrant memories I have from the times of toddling. The first: jumping on my bed. Compared to my three-year-old body, my bed was humongous and I flew for the first time. The second early years bodymemory is waking up to the sounds of my dad making his lunch early in the morning - circa the jumping on my bed time. Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I stumbled in my footie pajamas to the kitchen. My dad scooped me up, hugged me, kissed me and set me in my booster seat at the table. Then he gave me some chocolate milk and a slice of bread to dip in it (unusual I know, but a standard in my family).
By my fourth birthday my family moved to the tiny, rural town of White Salmon, WA and I lived there until I came to college in Seattle. When I was really little I wanted to be a ballerina. But beacause of a lack of ballet instructors in White Salmon - my first ballet experience was in Dance 101 here at UW. I played T-Ball, but once that little white ball was moving at me my baseball career ended. I played soccer in my 3rd grade year but didn't keep playing - I had a mean coach. Then in junior high I played volleyball and ran long distance in track. Through high school I stayed with volleyball and became the libero. I loved diving for the ball and rolling to get back on my feet - and I'm vertically challenged so being in the front row presented some issues. I also traded in my track uniform for a tennis racket once I got to high school.
My body image was shaped mostly by my face. I've been told I'm beautiful ever since I can remember, which always gave me confidence in my body. The only negative thing I grew up hearing about my body is about my feet. I'm 5'4" with a size 10-11 foot. So my older brother and his buddies nicknamed me "Squatchie" after the mythical beast Sasquatch. But what's a childhood as a little sister without an ongoing joke?
Hugs and kisses and snuggling have always been a part of my life growing up. And that has carried through to my adult life. I am a strong, heterosexual woman.
I generally have an active lifestyle that involves a lot of walking and as much swing and blues dancing that I can fit into my schedule. My body has carried an extra hundred pounds of weight up steep slopes, inhaled a lot of smoke and been warmed by the fire I was climbing a hill to fight. I have fought forest fires for three years. But this last fire season I pulled a muscle along my shoulder blade and I can still feel some pain from that when I neglect it, then try to work that muscle too hard.
Overall, I am comfortable with my body - it's just another part of who I am.
~Desirae N. Lexa
I was born in Seoul, Korea in a very loving and warm family. Our family is very family oriented. We do a lots of activities together such as skiing, swim, riding horses and so on since I was little. I realized that my body is very inflexible early in my childhood. I got injured all the time if I really get into some of the activities such as skiing, dancing and skating.
However, somehow I never stop doing it. I still remember the time that I first got injured by a sport. I was about nine years old. I was skating in front of my house. There were many hills which made it really fun. One day I could not stop myself from going down the hill. it made to spread my legs and I fall down. I felt something wrong. I looked at my pants and blood was all over the pants. I was bleeding. I was shock and slowly walked home and my mom took me to the ER. Since I was young, doctors told me the skin will be reattached if I keep apply some medicine. That was a horrible memory for me. I still can recall back that incident vividly. I think I learned to pay attention to how my body feels at a moment to secure my body. Now I feel better with my body and I will keep on doing body oriented activities to become more comfortable with my body.
My Childhood memories like my present memories are primarily events and emotions. It is very hard to recall the way my body felt when I was younger. I can say that “Dancing” has always given me positive kinesthetic feelings otherwise why would I still be dancing 16 years later. One of my fondest memories of “Creative Ballet” class, was leaping over the green scarf or “Alligator” in the middle of the floor. I would say that leaping is our closest self powered form of flight. As such, grand allegro has always been mine and others favorite part of Ballet class. It is so much fun to get lost in the momentum.
As far as body image goes, I’ve always been tall and skinny. People have always taken notice and said things like “look at those long legs,” “you look like a ballet dancer,” “you should be a model.” Though I mostly receive positive feedback about my body, sometime people question weather I’m anorexic or not. Growing up as an active dancer, I’ve always eaten a lot and never gained an ounce. But even still my mom has always worried about my weight. During fall quarter of my freshman year, I gained 10 pounds in a month. I attribute this to the unhealthy eating habits I found while living on my own for the first time. My best friend’s mom thought the 10 extra pounds looked good on me. And my sister jokingly called my chubby. After I realized I had gained so much weight and none of my pants fit me I decided I needed to change my eating habits. I didn’t go on any strict diet or anything, I just made the rule that I would only eat if I was hungry. By March I had lost 5 pounds and thought I was at a good weight. But By June I had lost the other 5 pounds. And now, as before no matter how much I eat I can’t gain and ounce.
-Sandi Viall
My parents have always been very healthy eaters and have always been more than willing to make sure everyone in their house is well-fed in the most nutritious way possible. That being said, my mother has fed me well since even before she knew of my existence. Growing up, sugar was only allowed on special occasions, and I kept very active with ballet, soccer, softball, and other activities, so I stayed in very good shape. Once middle and high school rolled around, I was constantly told that I was too skinny by classmates. My self-consciousness regarding my being underweight drove me to eat anything and everything, making me known to my friends as “the bottomless pit” all through high school. Although I tried, I couldn’t gain weight until a couple years into college when I finally hit triple digits. I have since become very comfortable with my body image and laugh off anyone’s ideas of my having an eating disorder. My genetically-induced fast metabolism continues to bless me to this day (both of my parents weighed 115 lbs when they were married, my father being 5’11” - again with the healthy eating thing), but I know that it won't last forever. I have given up the whole eating anything and everything thing, and I am concentrating more on eating healthy foods as my parents raised me to do.
My body has thrown me a few curve balls throughout my life. First off, I am amblyopic, leaving me legally blind in one eye and practically without depth perception. I also have quite severe scoliosis, making alignment in dance classes an interesting challenge. I’ve learned to work around and mask my lopsidedness, but being uneven, along with constant back pain, will always be an issue I’ll just have to deal with. In addition to my chronic conditions, I had a biopsy when I was 7, removing an enlarged lymph node on my neck, but it thankfully came back clean. Other than these few issues, I have always been in very good general health. I get sick when I don’t get enough rest, which, unfortunately, is all too often, but that’s just my body’s way of getting back at me for overusing it. I simply need to listen to what my body is telling me in order to stay healthy.
~Marcee Wickline
I'm not entirely sure what my first memory was. Although this may be disconcerting to some, it has never really bothered me. Instead of looking into the past, questioning and analyzing my origins, I've always questioned my future. My parents sometimes joke that I was born running and that I ran before I could walk, talk, or was even potty trained. In a sense, my active body reflects my mental state: always on the move, wondering what, where and who will be next. Of course throughout my life, my curiosities have differed and developed, thankfully. I've matured and my curiosities about the future have matured as well. Whereas the four year old me questioned, "Where can I find a chair to climb onto the counter to get to the cookie jar on the top of the fridge?" the fourteen year old me thought slightly further into the future. At fourteen my curiosities ranged from "When will I finally get boobs?" to "When will I have a boyfriend?...or be able to talk to boys?" Throughout high school and now, well into my college years, my curiosities tend to be more career centered, yet I also ponder the future of my relationship, the logistics of traveling the world, the possibility of marriage, kids, etc. To me, my life as I remember it has always been in motion. There is no paused moment in time that seems to be the beginning, nor can I pinpoint one single memory that defines my life as it is now. In a constant state of change, life's complexity makes it impossible to categorize and simplify.
I am reminded of the first time I swam every time my body is submerged in water. It was an exciting, nerve racking experience. I had swam before, but always in the protective arms of my mother or another trusted caretaker. Sometime around my 5th birthday, I was at a family friend's house w/ my father. It was at this time he decided I was old enough to take care of myself in the water. I was instructed to abandon my trusted waterwings and jump in. My stomach grew tight and my heart begn to race. I certainly did not want to dissapoint my father, but I could not muster the courage to jump in the pool. Several moments passed while my father asked me why I was not jumping in. After some time, my father's impatience resulted in him picking me up and throwing me into the pool. The short time it took my small body to leave my father's arms and plunge into the water seemed like an eternity. I remember the feeling of the water making way for me, embracing me. Perhaps the sensation of swimming stimulates memories of the womb? I raise this question for as soon as I was submerged in the pool, I felt safe and protected. The panic and hesitation I had experienced quickly gave way to feelings of joy. I was swimming, unabandoned and alone. This may be the first feeling of independence I can recall.
-Hanalore Alupay
I never had an issue about my body image until I reached 6th grade. During that time period, suddenly my body started to change. I now had breasts and hips...basically it was the worst thing that can happen to me. What the hell were these two bumps on my chest? Intellectually I knew what was happening to me, I was simply going through puberty (early) but I didn't want to accept it. Girls in class would tease me, boys all of the sudden wanted to become my friend, and I was pissed. My posture started to change. To de-emphasize my new body, I would hunch my back, my head was no longer in the center of my body, I didn't want anyone to notice my body. One of my teacher thought I had scoliosis and took my to the school's nurse...that was embarrassing. When I entered middle school, I prayed to God for my body to stop growing. My parents thought I was going to become tall because in the beginning of 7th grade I was already 5 4'. I didn't have a problem with my height, I just didn't want to have a "womanly" body. I felt I was the only one going through this, I was scared of change, in fact I hated change! At this rate, I thought I would end up looking like dolly parton but I guess all that praying worked because puberty ended quite abruptly for me.
I am currently satisfied with my body. I have a healthy perception of body image. I find beauty in all shapes and sizes.
my body is at home in nature.
i was born in a very small town. the shower of my first house where my parents lived when i was born was outside on the back porch. a very small house, heated by a wood stove and a shower with a floor of ice.
i found home when my parents built a beautiful log house on land that my family had owned for generations. i had acres upon acres to call my own, a dog, three horses, chickens, cows, water, trees, wheat fields, flowers, mountains, barns, space, space and more space, quiet and peace.
my body was 14 years old when my home was sold and my heart was torn in two. we moved to another town and my spirit stayed with my horse and the land that i loved.
my body grew, and has lived in many cities all over the world. my mind loves the stimulus of the city, the challenges and support of communities, and the convenience of modern living. but my body needs nature. its cravings for space and peace are not an option, and it suffers when its needs are not met. it needs to smell fresh earth as it is tilled to sow, to see blue sky and an infinite dome of stars, to feel bare ground and pure water.
i do my best to balance its needs with the demands i have created for the life it belongs to, but i know it requires more. its calling, and waiting for the times when it is grounded and set at ease, when my mind relaxes and my spirit liberated.
I was always the more social and outspoken one in my family. My sister older sister would always complain about how I went out a lot and how she never did when she was my age, but I would just ignore her because our personalities are totally the opposite and she’s more of a homebody whereas I like to go out and explore the world. I was very active in my childhood. I liked to sing, dance, swim, and play any kind of sport. I was involved in many organizations through my youth group dance team, flag football team, and also through secondary school joining the cheer squad and track team. I loved the feeling of exercising my body and knowing that I would see great results in shaping my body to the best of my ability as I maintained each activity. I was a really skinny kid, but as I’ve matured my body has changed to a more curvy voluptuous state. Unfortunately, as time passed I’ve become more inactive and consumed with the stress of school, work, and the daily strife. I remember my mother making a comment on how I had gained weight which was unusual for her to see since I was the smallest out of my family and I was always the more active one. My body is constantly changing and I’d like to go back to maintaining that healthy lifestyle once again.-Jeannette B.
when i was 8 months old, they forced me out, because they thought my head was to big. turns out it was fine. but i often wonder if i had come out a month later and a different astrological sign if i would be different. or if my forced entry has caused my impatient manner.
when i was 5 i told my mom that i was very upset because she had sex...twice. (one for me, and one for my sister.) it was probably the most disturbing revelation of my early life.
when i was 6 i decided i wanted to be a boy: no more pink, sneakers that lit up when i walked and nerf guns over barbies, although my mother would only let me play with legos. when i was dirty from running around i felt fierce. and when i would ride my bike with my dad, i always wrapped a bandana around my head like a biker and thought no one could be cooler than i was.
when i was 10 i liked a girl and quickly pretended that i didn't, i was not supposed to. i did not understand what i was feeling and i did not like not understanding. i proceeded to start fights with her for the following year until i lost interest.
when i was 13 i felt like there was something wrong with me, like the blood in me was not right. i went to doctors and tried many different medications and the doctors found nothing. they told me it was puberty.
when i was 15 i came out. i had had a boyfriend for a week and on valentines day i had my first kiss, smoked my first joint and told everyone i knew while baked for the first time that i was lesbian. my body decided it was time to tell the truth.
when i was 16 my best friend was anorexic, while she stopped eating, i started to envy her. why couldn't i be skinnier? why was i so wide hipped? why was i gay? why was i different. i stopped eating for 2 weeks, i stopped sleeping well for a year, and in general was pretty unhappy.
when i was 16 the doctors found out i had a hormonal disease and i started to be treated for it. it is genetic. i was angry for a long time about that too.
when i was 17 i decided i was sick of doctors and sick of feeling crappy, i started to work out and eat right. i took the first step towards being healthy and actively tried to stop the pattern of self doubt that i had built up and repeated for most of my life. it was time to start being ok with myself. it led to me having the habit of filling my days with so much activity that in reality i was escaping actually having to deal with myself, but a step in the right direction none the less.
when i was 18, i fell in love. it sucked for all two years of it. to this day my body still rejects that feeling.
when i was twenty, i took myself on a giant 6 month trip to eastern europe and the middle east. I learned many important things: how to stick my thumb out to hitch a ride, how to ride on the back of a motorcycle, how to hit on foreign women successfully and most importantly, what it is like to get sick from mysterious meats. all feelings i will never forget, because seriously, you should always ask what you are eating.
when i was 21, i broke my knee while kicking someone during training. i sprained every tendon in my knee and for a month and a half it was the size of a grapefruit. i was supposed to go to japan but instead i stayed at home slept and relaxed for the first time in my life. it was the best month i have ever had. i learned to be with myself, i learned to love myself and i learned to appreciate all the creaky parts that come with who i am. i have not thought i was fat since i got injured and i have not wanted to change myself. I finally started to learn to just be even if it only comes in moments.
moral of the story: if my body was supposed to be different, it would be. if my experiences were supposed to be different, they would have been. if i was supposed to be different i would not be who i am. and my body and i are pretty rad, right now.
My body itches incessantly. It itches everywhere: calves, neck, chest, ears and elbows. There are deep bone itches and wimpy feathery itches, but each itch needs to be scratched. I don’t know if it’s habit, allergies, or ingrown hairs, but everyone seems to have a theory and my body still itches. Maybe, I learned the itch as a kid when mommy and daddy and grandma were always asking for a back scratch.
I wouldn’t wish the itch on anyone, although I’m not sure I could handle the itch going away. If it didn’t itch, my body would experience episodes of calm I am so used to punctuating with frantic scratches. What does someone feel when their dominant feeling vanishes? Emptiness or minor, less assaulting sensations? Or maybe your brain would fill that void with more stories, more worries and to do lists. Maybe I’ll find out when this Benadryl finally works its magic.
When I sit still, when I’m not distracted by an internal story, my chin starts to tingle, then the itch spreads down my neck. When the itch reaches around beneath my shoulder blades, there’s no hope for stillness. I ruin newly painted nails trying to paw through my jackets to reach my spine, sighing internally because there was nothing I could do.
And my body experiencing meditation was one big unfulfilled itch.
--Eugenia Prezhdo
The body.
It was the world looks at to judge you initially. Before you are even able to speak a word to influence those around you, you are judged.
It doesn't matter what kind of person you are on the inside, I suppose in the beginning we all forget that we are composed of more than a mere outer appearance, but nonetheless judgements are made. I have had these judgements made upon me and admittedly I have made them myself. Of course...not all judgments have to be negative. Many are postive and when it comes to the judgments of oneself I believe that I am my biggest critic.
I have always wanted to move my body...ever since I saw the ballet of Cinderella when I was three and begged my mother to put me into ballet classes I knew that I loved to dance. This movement comes naturally, it doesn't need to be forced, you don't have to bribe me to dedicate time that I have to dancing. Walking, Running, Skating they are all fine but DANCING, that is where my passion lies. There is no safer or more peaceful feeling for me than when I dance.
With dance there is always critiques to be made, I learned from an early age that these critiques are for improvement, they are not meant to weaken your spirit but to strengthen your drive to improve and increase your ability. My mind has molded around the thought of criticism many years and I respond in the same way for most cases I believe now that I have fully come to grips with it. Where people make a judgement about me, I seek to improve. I do not curl up into a ball and feel like a failure I let the words (whether they were intended to be hurtful or helpful) wash over me and they help me strive to improve where improvement is needed.
Of course there are points in life that challenge you, every challenge presented more complicated than the next, but I have striven to come out victorious over my troubles taking them one day at a time. Tears have fallen many a time, Days have gone by wasted away when I didn't think there were reasons to go on. But I have one more thing that keeps me going, something that nothing can ever replace. I have the encouragement of my loved ones, the ones who have been through thick and thin, who know when I need them the most and would do anything in their power to help me. When I have met my moments of weakness, all those who have cared deeply about me for years are there to catch me and nurse me back to the way they know I am. None of these hardships are easy for them to bear, after all every human has their own challenges in life, but they never faulter in their attempts to help me. And I would do the same for them anyday.
My body is something that I love and cherish, but the soul it holds is what gives it life, the soul that has experienced earth shattering ordeals and indescribably wonderful moments. My future holds more, and with my body and the courage I have in my soul I live day by day waiting for what the world can throw at me next.
As I left the warmth and security of my first home, I was introduced to bright lights and strange loud noises. I entered the world and became my own person. My mind was enlightened and became the purest of all. I opened my eyes and shut it quickly: I spent most of the days afterwards adjusting my eyes to the brightness of open space. Once being adjusted to the brightness, I turned into a “mischievous” explorer. The first sensation I recalled was the first time I felt solid food touching my tongue, puréed vegetable. My ten little fingers grasped any objects that were in sight, following after my legs which formed strength to hold my body up. There was nothing stopping me now.
Throughout my life, I grew up careless and joyful. I embraced and reserved my body. I was always aware of myself and who I am. I was a female, somewhat unable to be comfortable in my own skin. I was never satisfied with my body but being careless balanced out how my mind coped with my image. I never cared much because all my concentration would focus on other things rather than my body.
My body was sacred to me; it took years for me to feel connected to it. As my body evolved into its final and natural form of a female, and different parts started forming, I started slowing down evolving physically. When I took my first dance class, I finally had a connection which I never experienced. I have learned my inner and outer beauty through the rhyme and inner strength that my body is capable of having. Most of all, during dance I have let lose to embrace myself.
The most significant first memory that I have is my fourth birthday party. My covered all walls and floors of my house with construction paper, so my friends and I were able to draw all over the house. My whole life I have never been a big fan of big parties, I always tend to leave and find my own more comfortable area to hang out. At this party I decided to try to pug in a snow man light into the wall socket. I ended up getting an electric shock, but was not in anyway injured. My mom, being the coolest mom, gave me an ace bandage to wear back into the party. This made me feel cool and I allowed me to be dramatic about what had happened to my wrist.
I remember that it hurt for a matter of 3 seconds and then I proceeded to fake cry until my mom came rushing in my room. My mom was able to make a embarassing situation fun and helped make me feel more comfortable.
When I was in the eight grade my dad had a stroke after running a 8k race with me. I felt many emotions but it was hard for me to express them, my mom was busy at the hospital with my dad and my brother and I were forced to spend the night at varying friends houses until my mom was able to come home. My dad was in intensive care for about six months and my mom stayed with my dad at the hospital for the first month. It was really hard for me to talk about my feelings because my mom did not have time to listen to them. I tried to put on a happy face and pretend that it never happened. I never was shed one tear until about one year later.
My freshman year of high school was hard, my dad was still in the hospital and everyone knew about it. I was no longer kristen, I was kristen with the dad that was sopossed to die. I became very inverted and developed an eating disorder to try and gain control of my life. It took my mom about 1 months to realize that I was loosing weight at such a rapid pace. I was then forced to deal with my eating disorder in out patient care on and off for the next four years. Not until i was in the therapy, was I able to realize that my eating disorder was related to my feelings towards almost loosing my dad.
While in therapy I was able to connect my emotions and become more confidant as well as being able to know my own emotions. I also was introduced to yoga. Yoga gave me a center to my life and allowed me to have control of a more balanced life. Not only was I able to get in shape physically, I was able to get in good health in my insides too.
this assignment is closed
Can you
Can you erase the blog please. Thank you (former student)
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