Faking It.

Makeup is and has been a big part of my life. Up until recently, I was a somewhat busy actress doing show after show to the point of burnout. Looking your best is part of that job. In fact, onstage with those intense lights, you just have to wear the stuff, otherwise you look a little ghastly.

I have become very attached to makeup to the point of needing it with me at all times (you know, for touch-ups). I think part of my attachment is that I grew up around some incredibly insecure women. Or...maybe it's not that they're insecure, they are just sure that appearance is the key to being satisfied with oneself. I struggle with this myself. I certainly like the way I look with makeup on, prefer how I look with it on, let's be real honest. My eyes are bigger, my complexion more uniform, my lips plump and stained, rosy cheeks and smoky eyes. Sure, I get it...it looks great! But it also takes up a lot of my time. And then I spend hours agonizing over the mess it makes of my pores. The fine lines, the splotches, and here's where it gets ugly...the blackheads. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have these hideous things if I didn't wear makeup. I could learn a foreign language in the time it takes me each night cleaning these things out of my face. It takes me a half-hour or more to get ready for bed, and that sometimes does not include the simple things like taking out my contact lenses and brushing/flossing my teeth. And I'm sure it's not good for me. In fact, I know picking at my face just makes it worse. I end up going to bed feeling bad about myself, over-tired from staying up too late and fretting over my face...it's just a downright dumb behavior!

This week I am taking a break from fakeup, I mean makeup.  I want to see my real skin, sun spots and all. I will wash it and oil it only with olive oil (A trick I learned from a dear friend and so far I love it! Hey, if it works for the Italians...I'm in!). I'm going to be kind to myself and not criticize or tell myself I look less-than. My skin needs a break and my mind needs a break from caring so much about it. If a week is successful, maybe I'll go a month. Then maybe I can limit makeup to only special occasions. Maybe I'll never spend money on the stuff ever again (whoa, I just panicked a little there...let's not go to extremes, Alexis)!

So far, here's what I've experienced in just the first two days:

1) Time! I don't feel so rushed to spend that extra ten-fifteen minutes on doing my makeup. I am usually late for everything, so maybe this is a solution to that nasty habit.
2) A lovely facial massage with olive oil in the mornings and evenings. It feels divine and my hands are even softer as a result! My face feels soft and supple, and the super dry skin around my nose from blowing it every two minutes (thank you perma-drip, courtesy of cold MN weather) seems to be going away more and more.
3) It doesn't hurt to smile! My face usually feels so tight and stretched at the end of the day because I think my makeup kind of dries on my face and doesn't move with me.
4) My skin tone seems less blotchy already.
5) I looked in the mirror today and didn't hate how I look. I saw a clean, fresh face and could appreciate the small but pretty almond-shaped eyes, the natural pink in my lips and cheeks. It was a younger face, a less-stressed, less-severe face.

I like this experiment. More to come, I'll report back at the end of this week...

Yarn. Obsessed.

I need to confess to a little addiction I've developed. The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, right? And supposedly this blog is all about free therapy--things I do and think and explore to get more out of life... Here it goes! Boy I'm nervous. You're finally going to see me for who I really am. I'm addicted to buying yarn! I have spent a small fortune on various colors and textures of the stuff. But it's so cozy and inviting and wonderful, I just can't stay away! 

Especially when you can make stuff like this.....

{mommy octopus}

{baby octopus}

{happy pear}

and this.....

{baby's football cocoon with matching hat}

I could argue that it's healthier than playing Angry Birds all damn day long, or that by making homemade gifts for all my friends who are having babies (and I do mean that ALL my friends are having babies) saves me money, keeps me creative, and is utterly stress-relieving and peaceful. Plus, my friends and family get hand-crafted goodness. Buying a gift at Target or Pacifier is easy, and I have done it before...but there's something about the precious time you put into these things that is so gratifying. 'Each stitch saves a soul,' a friend's grandma used to say. 

I wouldn't go that far, but I 
certainly feel love in this work. 

~Alexis 

Doing nothing.

I forget how amazing it is to just do nothing. Granted, nothing for me can only happen when my house is spotless, the laundry is done (preferably having been dried on the clothes line) and put away, and there is something already cooked or prepped to make for an easy dinner. (Today it was leftover jambalaya our friends sent home with us from a little dinner party we went to last eve--delicious!)  

I just sat in my hammock with my honey this evening, listened to Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver on my headphones and crocheted. After awhile, even this was too much effort, so I turned off the iPod, closed my eyes and dozed in the dappled sunlight coming through the leaves of the canopy of our neighbor's oak tree. 

Bliss comes in many forms. Today it was just being quiet, outdoors, having nowhere to be and no one to impress. When I don't have to watch the clock, I feel a peace so real and full--I feel like I am getting a big 'ole hug from our Creator. 

More of this tomorrow. We are going hiking at a nearby state park, and I want to find a cozy little spot to just sit and meditate...quiet the mind and check out for awhile in the beauty of this season. 

Speaking of this season, check out what I picked up at the NE Farmer's Market today! 

Buying these beauties (see right->) made me feel extravagant, like I'd just purchased a $15 bouquet of flowers, except it's Rainbow Chard and was $2 for this huge bundle. Dinner tomorrow night: Chard, cherry tomato & poached Egg mini pizzas with zucchini hash. Dessert TBD.

Enjoy your nothing, whatever it may be.

~Alexis

CREATION

Just watched the film Creation last night on Netflix instant.  A BBC biographical drama on Charles Darwin, starring Paul Bettany & Jennifer Connelly.  {Let it be known that I have been following Jennifer Connelly's acting career since The Labyrinth, so anything she does I'm probably going to love...and I have yet to see something Paul Bettany does that I don't love.}  But I really enjoyed this film. 


Here's an article in The Telegraph about the film: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/northamerica/usa/6173399/Charles-Darwin-film-too-controversial-for-religious-America.html


You know how books choose when you read them? Same with some films. They just seem to hit the spot, as it were. I've been struggling...(is struggling the word?...grappling? mentally wrestling? It's all the same) with religion and ideas about faith for a long time, probably since my sophomore year of college, probably forever... In the past few years, I have slowly begun the process of shedding my own religious upbringing and have become more and more agnostic in my belief system.  As Darwin says in the film, [on battling with God]...'it's just a silent struggle against myself, extended over a thousand afternoons. The loss of religious faith is a slow and fragile process, like the raising of continents.' So true. I would add that it is also a painful process, especially when so many people around you seem so rooted in and comforted by their belief in God. 

At first I mourned my failed attempts to find peace and connection in Christianity, fearing I would grow sarcastic and pessimistic about human kind. ‘Homo homini lupus.' (Man is a wolf to man) What? We're just all out to get each other then? Survival of the fittest? But no. It has left me feeling surprisingly optimistic. I don’t know the answers, and therefore am open to a vast realm of ideas and belief systems. 'Who am I to know the heart of God?'

Forgive my referencing Freud here, but I just recently read a few things of his in my Theories of Personality class that I can relate to. He said of religion:  “The whole thing is so patently infantile, so foreign to reality, that to anyone with a friendly attitude to humanity--it is painful to think that the great majority of mortals will never be able to rise above this view of life.”  He goes on to add: ‘The uneducated masses will always need the illusions of religion to cause them to restrain their passions; but educated, intelligent persons should live their lives according to scientific facts, not illusions.’  (Let it be known that Freud grew increasingly pessimistic in his later years. He became a grumpy old man and wasn't well received by his peers, professionally.)

I have many Christian friends and family, so it's very hard to write this, because you're either in one school of thought or the other. It's painful because it causes division, and yet I feel so free from the burdens of religious dogma having accepted this viewpoint. And yet some of the most intelligent people I know are devout Christians, so I cannot go with Freud's opinion on the idea that only the 'uneducated masses' need religion. For me, no matter which religion you cling to, you'll never truly know the answers anyway. And I'm okay with the mystery. Religions, to me, are just great collections of culturally relevant stories. Great parables to moral conduct and models of behavior. They aren't wrong, necessarily. I believe Jesus existed and that if he were alive today I would most certainly beg an audience with him and hear all he had to say. I believe in a Creator. There is too much symmetry, too many miracles, too much perfection in the world to believe otherwise. Look at an orchid. Look at an embryo. Look at a spider! Symmetry, beauty, perfection.

Oh my. This truly feels like I'm coming out of the religious closet. Perhaps I've opened up a can of worms I can never again close comfortably. And while your opinion is welcome here, I do not in any way, shape or form intend to stifle your beliefs with my own. What I just can't swallow is the idea that just because you're born in Cambodia, and aren't introduced to Christianity, means you're going to burn in hell for not having been 'saved.' It's exclusive, and so conveniently North-American. I just can't see a God that would look down the line of souls and say, 'You, you, you, not you, you...' And pain and suffering: 'It's God's plan' that someone should suffer while we 'good Christians' are rewarded. Or, let's 'pray into it' that God will provide for us to take a vacation this year, even though an entire village in Somalia is being destroyed, its women raped, its fathers murdered at this very moment. Yes, God cares whether or not I am able to take a vacation. Yes, he provides me with every comfort and convenience that comes my way, but the poor man who was laid off and consequently lost his home, his family and now his mind living on the streets? Yes, he is being tested. God is testing his faith. He's a modern-day Job. He struggles because he has not accepted God into his heart and prayed for his favor. Even though God is love, right? Okay, I get it now, makes total sense. ????????


I, for one believe what Abraham Lincoln said. "When I do good, I feel good. When I do bad, I feel bad. That is my religion." Amen. I can believe in that. 

Toddlers & Textbooks.

I had to laugh at myself today. I'm trying to do more of that. And though I'm studying something very serious and take my future career (marriage and family therapist) very seriously, there needs to be more room for laughter in my life, I have decided. This world, in my opinion, could use a big old belly laugh like no other, so I truly am trying to do my part.

Anyway, I met a friend for lunch today. Chinese food, specifically. I was craving lo mein and she obliged me. Of course, being my father's daughter, I can't go anywhere without a book. I knew I might be early, and would want to keep myself occupied...but what book did I need with me? Human Development, naturally. So there I sat, doing a little homework, sipping my over-brewed, bitter Jasmine tea in the company of strangers, who undoubtedly thought I looked strange in my cuffed jeans and plaid button-up, sans makeup, poring over a giant textbook. This book weighs about as much as my dog (Vinnie is 15 lbs) and is altogether repetitious, no doubt contributing to its length and breadth and tree-killing capacity. As I walked into the restaurant, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window and just had to laugh. I looked like a mom with a toddler on her hip. But instead of a toddler, it was this massive textbook spanning shoulder to elbow. Giant over-stuffed-diaper-bag-of-a-purse on my right shoulder, enormous text book on the left hip. (No wonder my shoulders ache!) I think I kind of half-expected to see a kid perched on that hip, only because I am nannying so much these days. It has become a regular occurrence to see myself reflected back with a small one, arm dangling, straddling that soft space between rib and hipbone. I took bookworm to a whole new level today, at any rate.

The friend I met today is a person I haven't known for very long. But somehow that is not important. I think she has this effect on a lot of people, so I won't go flattering myself, but I feel like we have known each other a very long time. Kindred spirits in a lot of ways. We were discussing an issue I have been wrestling with about having children (speaking of toddlers on my hip)... or not. I really struggle with this right now, probably more so since starting grad school because being in that self-exploration stage really makes you...well, self-evaluate. I go back and forth. Having a child is an experience I so desire. By right, pregnancy is such a female experience, and I'm such an experience-junky, why would I choose to miss out on that? It's out of character for me to not grab at every possibility, let's be honest. But I know how stressful having children is. The day in/day out stress of get up, change the kid, feed the kid, dress them, reroute a tantrum, change another diaper, keep them occupied, feed them, change another diaper, nap time, change another diaper, etc. etc. is relentless. Maybe because I see it as work (I get paid to take care of other people's kids) it's not coming from a place of joy or devotion or even choice. Maybe when it's my own kids I won't see it that way? And I also want to honor my marriage by having time for my husband. He came first, after all. Besides, it is my opinion that--what good is a family to a child if there isn't any harmony between the two who are leading the pack? And then I start thinking about the world. We're running out of water, we're running out of space, the world is overpopulated. And as rivers are drying up, the oceans are contaminated and filling with more water because of global climate change, many kinds of animals and plants will become extinct and we will continue to see more intense storms and natural disasters because of it all. It scares me. It keeps me up at night. Why would I want to bring a child into all that? And then I remind myself to not be such a Doomsday prophet, already. I don't mean to be negative, I don't even mean to scare anyone, but the fact of the matter is...we live in a very scary time. Maybe I should take my money and travel with it, donate to organizations that help needy children, adopt! Not saying that having kids is a transaction and should be likened to a shopping excursion: 'Hmmmm, I can afford this but not that..' Not at all. But raising kids is expensive, it's a life commitment, and it's something I wish a lot more people would take seriously. And there I go again, being serious. The joke will be on me, though, I just know it. I will probably end up with twins and enjoy every moment of it, to be sure. For now, though, I'll keep lugging around those textbooks. At least they don't talk back. Much.

Sara Bareilles - Let The Rain (Studio Version) + Lyrics

Blog Beginnings. {or: Here goes nothing}

I debated whether or not to start a blog. Aren't there enough of them out there as it is? Really, can we get any more narcissistic, culturally speaking? I am starting this blog for a few reasons:  1. I like to write, and don't do so nearly enough. (good practice for those self-help-best-sellers I plan to write someday) 2. My massage therapy website: www.aclarkseanmassage.abmp.com included a free link to include a blog.  And since I can't ever seem to do anything halfway...well, you get the idea. 3. I like sharing ideas.  Power in numbers. This world is chaotic and messy and jumbled and just awful sometimes.  I am always looking for ways to simplify my world and take it a day at a time.  Hopefully this blog is a public reflection of that:  yoking the worlds of my personal self-care, my massage therapy practice and what I am learning in my graduate work. They are so connected, I tell you!  My husband and I joke about starting a 'Life School' for people who clearly just don't get it (things you see in the Walmart, par example).  That's what this blog is about, just a bit more cerebral.

Just so we're clear:  

A. I am not a therapist...yet.  Massage therapist, yes. You can ask me questions about massage therapy, I am an expert there.  I might be able to refer you to a great talk therapist, but as of now, don't take anything I say as fact.  These are just ideas.  Theories 'o mine.  Freedom of speech and all that, but I don't claim to be a professional at this point in time.

B. If I reference a client, names and sometimes gender will always be changed to protect the privacy of the individual.

Definitions.

Alexis:  {Greek origin} Helper and Defender of Mankind.

Therapist:  {From therapy from the Greek therapeia} To heal.  A professional who uses therapeutic treatment techniques to treat conditions; especially those of a bodily, mental, or behavioral nature.