Down the Rabbit Hole

Alice, wear your own watch.

Back in my expat planet days, my pre-home leave rituals included pulling out a nice clean piece of white printer paper where with my big fat sharpie marker I would write two words across the top in big letters: TO BUY. New sneakers, workout clothes, some yoga gadget, ziplock bags, cosmetics, jeans and that gem of a no brainer - bras (hello, show me a 5 ft 10in woman who says she can buy bras in Asia and you're seeing of course a LIAR!). Sometimes, depending on my mood and actual exercise levels, the list would reach to the back page. Once ensconced in the land of plenty, I would keep that list nearby while also learning to be online savvy with amazon.com or zappos.com prior to my long haul flights. Family and friends, when informed of the incoming packages to their addresses would murmur understandingly and make appropriately supportive sounds of appreciation.

I could at times be known to book dates for Target or REI before family lunches or trips to the beach. But hey, I was on home leave and as such was afforded a larger leash of understanding regarding my clearly understandable and natural thirst to buy stuff. And it wasn't like my overseas locations didn't have stuff or anything, it just wasn't the kind of stuff that I needed, apparently.

One thing I very rarely bought was a magazine. Loftily considering myself  immune to the pulls of marketing and advertising, I would have explained that the things on my list were not just any old stuff things but instead were critical pieces that I needed since I could not get them "back home" in Kenya, Nepal or wherever that place was. The argument went something like this: I don't shop at all there, so it's ok to shop here in fewer larger swoops. The term I believe, is called "binge shopping" and yes dearie, that self help literature has it right that DENIAL is not a river in Egypt.

Now, with some longer exposure to the beauty mag ads and to fitting right into the typical demographic for such page splashes, I'm thinking the following: I'm an easy mark. Example? the other morning, after rising from a night of restless sleep and monkey mind, I splashed cold water on my face and peered into the morning mirror. What was that? I wondered, peering more closely at my sleepy complexion. Was that laugh line there yesterday? And that there, is my forehead blotchy like that all the time? No worries, I think I read somewhere yesterday about some new cream that will smooth out uneven complexions and reduce signs of wrinkles within 48 hours. 

O_M_G. I'd gone and done it. I fell right into the trap of marketing and patronizing promises of rolled back time and fresh-facedness before even having had my cup of decaf coffee. Nice going, marketers! Consider yourselves brilliant and mission accomplished. One step of neurosis for Claudia M Chang, one giant step for Consumption and Insecurity Ltd.  I snapped out of it but couldn't help but notice that I'd not had that kind of morning narrative literally in  *years.*

Don't get me wrong. I'm not getting up on a soapbox and decrying the pitfalls of consumption and consumer power of purchasing. Personal choices about managing our physical, emotional and spiritual lives are totally  that --personal and everyone has an inherent right to exercise those choices without judgement. Stepping into a Sephora can make me forget my first and last name and I'll admit it loud and proud (and had my above morning moment stayed on longer than that first mirror glance, I'd probably still be in that shop now, lost among the shelves of goodies.). What bugged me about that moment was the slice of concern I felt over my physical appearance and life journey going seemingly in some pre-determined and inarticulated wrong direction. Of being late for something but not clear what. And because I chose something other than compassion and care to my reflection, that marketing moment of concern moved right on in  --one moment too many, I'd say.

Guys are not off the hook either. From the number of mags I've seen promising guys all the muscle tone in the world as well as everlasting virility for general mantasticness  - well it seems there is an equal opportunity platform for these various pitfalls.

Proceed with caution...and compassion.

The idea that there is something wrong with your appearance as it naturally is and that you can fix it with this PRODUCT is not new. For as long as people strive to learn, grow, and improve, there are welcome and true ways to help bring out the best in ones self. But wow. It's quite a shock to be immersed again into the near constant assault that is the women's magazine industry that bombards one with constant messages about some nebulous nirvana that awaits simply through a snap of the wallet. Let's not get started on photoshop. So it seems that these publications all rest on the assumption that who we are au natural is just not good enough. Or am I missing some deeper message of appreciation, that I'm worth it, just like the L'Oreal hair color ads explain?

Each time I'm passing a magazine, which in pretty much any store is about every 5 seconds, I now notice a ticker tape question stream running through my head: What if we all accepted ourselves completely and totally as we were, especially physically but in all aspects of our lives and path? What if we did that even while recognizing things we wanted to change about ourselves? What if we were truly in touch with every aspect of our lives and beliefs, especially about authentic love for ourselves and others? And finally, what if we could sit comfortably with any discomfort about things we wanted to change with kindness and humor? 

I bet those mirror meetings would look a lot different.
 

Good morning Sassy!