Wake Up and Smell Your Arm Skin

Well friends, I did my homework this week. I paid attention and noticed things about myself. Do I love myself more now? I'm not sure, but I can honestly say I haven't quoted The Crown in the mirror once, which I think is a good start. I even threw in one extra observation. Since I was the one assigning the homework, I thought I should go the extra mile. You're welcome. So without further ado - cue bubble baths, Enya, and all that other self-care kind of stuff -

Things I Noticed about Myself:

1. I generally sit or stand with my head cocked to the side and my chin slightly upward, especially when praying
This is often a result of lazy posture - when I straighten my spine, my head straightens with it and my chin sometimes goes down. However, often it's my position of meditation, of thoughtfulness, of attention, times when I am unconcerned with posture and appearance. I am always gazing upward towards the cross and towards the tabernacle, in a sidelong gaze of admiration. This seems to carry over into general conversation as well. Dare I say I am subconsciously acknowledging the image of God in each of us?

2. My preferred seated position is either everything tight and squashed together (hands tucked under or between my crossed legs) or everything relaxed (open legs and leaning forward or backward)
Why are my hands often tucked away? At this time of year, because they are cold and squashing attempts to warm them. However, security is also a factor. I like bundling myself into a tight, interconnected unit. I hate the feeling of loose arms hanging by my side. My hands need to be doing something, touching something. On the other hand, I like to feel uninhibited and let my legs fall where they may, yet even with this my hands are usually folded up. Confession: as a middle schooler or so, I found it so cute when boys/men sat in bleachers with their legs apart, leaning forward, with their elbows on their thighs, that I started emulating it with my own body, and it sort of stuck! Attention and love? Yes, indeed.

3. If I have chips or cookies in my possession, I put all nutrition aside to eat them, so that they will be finished and no longer a temptation
I just polished off a bag of locally made tortilla chips, a jar of salsa, and a box of maple cookies. I've eaten chips and salsa for lunch 3 days in a row now, plus as after dinner snacks and various munching in between. I kept telling myself I would have a salad today - and truly, I was getting indigestion so I needed the salad - but I just can't look at a bag of fresh chips and let them go stale. Today they were a week old, so they needed to be finished. It's not like I binged all at once!

4. I say "mmhm" and "interesting" a LOT when I am listening to someone
A dear friend of mine pointed this out to me as we traveled together this weekend. My lack of real words was beginning to worry her, but it's just how I process. I promise I'm listening; "mmhm" isn't just a mindless response. However, sometimes I haven't previously considered what you are saying, so don't expect an immediate, grander reply. I can take a while to form opinions. Contrariwise, do not always assume "mmhm" is a sound of agreement. No, not always agreement but usually understanding.

5. I smell my wrists throughout the day
I LOVE smelling my wrists - well, my whole arm but it's winter so the wrist is all that's at my disposal. Sometimes my skin smells like soap, like lotion, like peanut butter, or just like me. I nuzzle into myself. It's comforting and pleasantly distracting and, well, downright meditative at times.

6. I struggle to pronounce -ng words correctly
Today, I observed to a coworker that I still often think of language in terms of phonics. Yet while I can tweeze out differences between long and short vowels, I cannot form the -ng sound properly. I still argue that all of the people who actually pronounce the "g" are wrong, too. It isn't long-guh. But, I suppose I can't be too critical, since it sounds like "lawn" when I say it. However, I can't actually hear that difference, and even if I can hear it, I can't get my mouth to change it. People have offered to work with me, but you know what? I don't want to change it. It's a Western Maryland quirk - my brother and one of my best friends say it the same way. If people in Philadelphia can say "wudder" for "water" then I can say "seener" for "singer".


Does any of this really make a difference in the relationships I build and things I accomplish? I don't know. "You're a dancer," a woman recently said to me, after observing how I carry myself. Yes, I am. A dancer with a weakened core from years of disuse, but a dancer nonetheless. Can I be a friend to someone whether or not they know I danced for 14 years? Sure. But for those, like this woman, who are keen enough to observe, my physicality is an outward manifestation of my background, my attention level, my confidence, my discomforts. Keen observation cannot be left to the stranger, however. Each of us must be a keen observer of ourselves.

Tracing our physicality, our patterns of speech, and our patterns of behavior can be a good way to look at our lives, past and present: what shaped us, what worries us, what motivates us, what comforts us. Perhaps, too, we can look to these patterns to guide us in our future: what needs to change, what needs to continue, what vices should stop and what virtues should grow. I, for one, know I need to slow down my consumption of chips and cookies.

The mundane can also be personal. What is more everyday than observing how one sits and stands? But it's how you sit and stand, and as a unique and whole person made in the image and likeness of God, every single action, every single aspect of you is important, is beautiful, is good. Personhood is in the mundane. Holiness is in the mundane. Look closely, and love what you find there.


What did you observe this week? What can you learn from it?

This post is in response to last week's post, Permission to Notice, which you can read here.