Sensing My Self

Well, I am back from a week in New Orleans at the 2006 APA Conference. It was a nice break from my life in grad school, and studying for comps, etc. Now I'm back and it seems like there is more work than ever, but I am grateful for that break.

I am always a little more self-conscious when I am around people I don't know and in unfamiliar surroundings, and APA offered both challenges. I really struggled with my appearance those five days. I can look back now and say, gosh, I was nervous. It was really difficult, though, when I was in the moment to believe that. Instead, I missed a session because my hair looked TERRIBLE (not really, but I wasn't really being rational), obsessed over every mirror, tinted window, general reflective surface. It made my experience there a less pleasant one, although there were significant portions of time where I was able to absorb myself in the moment, and just focus on my experience and what I was taking in and sensing, rather than what I looked like.

While I was there, I was able to pick up a great book (on sale!) called Sensing the Self: Women's Recovery from Bulimia by Sheila Reindl. Although bulimia is not the particular eating disorder I struggle with, I have found a lot of what she has to say so far relevant to many different eating struggles. Although I am only a couple of chapters in, I have already learned a lot. I like her focus on recovery -- all the women she interviews for the book have made a successful recovery, which is a great reminder that, hey, you can really get better! Also, she focuses on sensing one's self -- one's being, as well as the information one gets in from the senses, as a way of healing. Rather than focusing on an external barometer -- what others may think, a comment a parent made once, what magazines say you should look like -- one switches to focusing on an internal compass: what you feel, what you like, what feels good and enjoyable and what is right for you. And so, in my moments when I am most anxious and most focused on what I ate or didn't or might eat, or what I weight or what fits me or doesn't, I will take a moment, and breathe, and feel the air in my lungs, the sun on my face, the leaves fluttering in the wind above me, and the ground beneath my feet, and know that really, all is right with the world, and I am okay.

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PS: Dooce has a fabulous new article up on alphamom about postpartum depression in women you should check out.