Perfectly put. This is one T-ed up election

http scandal://www.cc.com/video-clips/ay9dkp/the-daily-show-with-trevor-noah-fallout-from-donald-trump-s-pussygate-

Scars. Tove Lo always on point.

Scars we carry
Carry with memories, memories burned by the dark
Try to see clearly
Tears we bury
Bury in vain cause the pain got us falling apart
Try to see clearly

Now let the healing start
The fires out of guns
We keep it in our hearts
We're like a thousand suns
Ooh, yeah, every day, step by step, we dare to love again
And if we lose our grip, meet you at the end

Know they're cutting you deep
Feel the scars in your sleep
What didn't kill us made us stronger
Stories left on our skin
Wear them with everything
What didn't kill us made us stronger

Don't feel lonely
Loneliness kills all the thrill from standing alone
Try to see clearly

Now let the healing start
The fires out of guns
We keep it in our hearts
We're like a thousand suns
Ooh, yeah, every day, step by step, we dare to love again
And if we lose our grip, meet you at the end

Know they're cutting you deep
Feel the scars in your sleep
What didn't kill us made us stronger
Stories left on our skin
Wear them with everything
What didn't kill us made us stronger
Know they're cutting you deep
Feel the scars in your sleep
What didn't kill us made us stronger
Stories left on our skin
Wear them with everything
What didn't kill us made us stronger

Feet don't fail me now, no
What didn't kill us made
What didn't kill us made us stronger
Feet don't fail me now
What didn't kill us made
What didn't kill us made us stronger

Scars we carry

Just Sharing some Snapping #imwithher

The H Word

As someone who has struggled with her weight on different occasions in my life, on both ends of the spectrum a little too high and conversely a little too low, i have had the opportunity to acquire a collection of observations on others' reactions to the weight struggle. I have heard comments ranging as far and wide as these examples that first come to mind:

“Honey, you're quite pretty, if you lost a little weight, you could be gorgeous!”

“She has a nice figure, save for that stomach.”

“Pretty girl, if only she cut out carbs, she could reach her potential.”

“She used to be attractive but she lost too much weight.”

“Oh, yeah, she looks a little too 'healthy' these days, she's cutting out sweets.”

These are just a few of the soundbytes that I scrounged from my memory in writing this post but trust me, there are countless more I have stored up from years of being “just a little round” and roughly the same number of years “a naturally skinny lanky thing.” If you cannot detect the rolling of my eyes through the screen at the word natural, let me make it abundantly clear now that yes, I am rolling my eyes. I am not naturally skinny nor was I ever. But I digress a bit. 

Over the course of all these years, I have repeatedly stumbled upon one particular notion that has consistently both bothered and bewildered me. The notion that I am referencing is simply put: the word “healthy” has seemingly morphed into a modern-day euphemism-cloaked-in-disguise-as-compliment for “gained weight”, “round,” “not thin”… The list could go on but I will stop here, as it is not the list of adjectives that is most important here, it is the bewildering notion that the word “health,” – at its core a paradigm of that human state of physicality towards which we should all aspire – has become synonymous with just the opposite of its core. It has become synonymous with outward body shape instead of inward body state, curvy instead of functioning, soft instead of operational. 

By definition, the word “health” is described by Ms. Mirriam Webster herself as such:

noun
1.
the general condition of the body or mind with reference to soundness and vigor:
good health; poor health.
2.
soundness of body or mind; freedom from disease or ailment:
to have one's health; to lose one's health.
3.
a polite or complimentary wish for a person's health, happiness, etc., especially as a toast:
We drank a health to our guest of honor.
4.
vigor; vitality:
economic health.

By all four definitions cited above, we can clearly see that the essence of the word is inextricably linked to one's bodily state of affairs, one's physical well-being and lack of disease and/or malfunction. Nowhere in any of the above four definitions do we see even a semblance of a citing of a reference to: attractiveness, shape, figure, or texture of one's body. Read the definitions over and over if you must, none of these will extricate themselves from the queen bee Ms. Webster's “health” descriptions. 

Having said and cited all of the above, and as I stated earlier, having lived on both sides of the “weight range” sliding scale, I posit the following: the word “health” should not be associated with any movement, Instagram account, Twitter handle, or anything of the like, that focuses on outward appearance. If you are not following my reasoning, here is one particular lens through which I will explain, namely the current “healthy is the new skinny” movement. 

“Healthy is the new skinny”. This phrase at its core does not make sense. Fromm both a grammatical and logical stance, for a movement of sorts like this to make sense, the two words included, namely “healthy” and “skinny” should be directly correlated to one another, either polar opposites, relative contradictions…you get the gist. “Healthy” and “skinny” are in no way any of these. Not only are the words not antonyms, they are actually not related in any sense. “Healthy” is the adjective form of the definition cited above, contrary to “skinny”, which is defined by Ms. Webster as such:

adjective, skinnier, skinniest.
1.
very lean or thin; emaciated:
a skinny little kitten.
2.
of or like skin.
3.
unusually low or reduced; meager; minimal:
skinny profits.
4.
(of an object) narrow or slender:
a skinny bed.

As per above, “skinny” is directly associated with the inverse of that which health is: appearance. So, just to reiterate, “healthy” correlates to an inner physical state, whereas “skinny” correlates to an outward one. If that is not as clear as day, I am not certain what is. Now, with that stated, I can proceed with my point.

Again, “Healthy is the new skinny” does not make sense. firstly, Skinny (thin, lean, whatever synonym you would like to sub in here) does not and should not be the deciding factor as to whether a human being is indeed healthy. Just as, like all the current “body positivity movements” seem to say, a “size 14” woman can be just as healthy as a size 2, so can be the case with the inverse. Perhaps a size 2 woman can be just as healthy as a woman who is a size 8 or 10. Simply due to the mere fact that she is skinny, does not give society or any movement du jour the right to insinuate she is not healthy herself. secondly, we should not be using words that are not correlated with one another to say one is the new form of the other. To use a popular pop-culture reference to explain my thought here, I will cite of my personal favorite shows, Orange is the New Black. While the show and this post are not subject-matter-wise related to one another, they are related in their verbiage ,as you can see. Orange and black are both colors - this is fact. Given this, we are able to logically say, perhaps yes, orange is the new color substitute for black. Regardless of whether you are familiar with the show or not, you can agree that this phrase can and does make logical sense. On the contrary, since healthy and skinny are not both “colors” or “appearance descriptors” or “physical medical states” or anything of the sort sharing any relation, the phrase does not make logical sense. Neither of the words should be used to sub out the other, no matter how you slice it. No, absolutely no pun intended.

The last point I would like to posit here is that, by using this phrase as common jargon, it seems to have colloquially associated the word “healthy” with being, in some sense, “heavy” or “heavier” than that which is societally seen as “pretty”, and has, by way of analogy, made the word “healthy” a negative. Before anyone reading this jumps up out of their seats or screens, let me provide a bit further context. Given that the times we live in have created the dysfunctional portrait of female beauty as stick-thin, by associating health with being “not skinny”, the times have created the INCORRECT and DANGEROUS notion that being described as “healthy” in any way means one is not attractive and worse, that it is actually an insult disguised in the form of a compliment. This ties directly back to the beginning of my assertion in this post. I will save my thoughts on how this has contributed to the modern-day epidemic of eating disorders for a separate post. 

To conclude, we should immediately stop using the word healthy as an appearance-adjective and put it back in its rightful place of serving as a descriptor of a state of physical well-being. I can only hope this makes sense and catches on before the ever-and-always correct Mirriam Webster is forced to change her definition.

Word to the Wise. A pictorial teaser to a perhaps reopening B-logue...

Made Up Media Words Q4 Edition!

Bunny Buns!

How very long it has been!

1.       “Share out”. By far my new “favorite” from my current endeavor here generating marvelous media plans. Ahem. Witty McWit over here I know. (Read: I am currently employed by a company with the word Generate in it). To be clear, Buns, when I say favorite here, I am (hopefully) clearly employing the tactic of sarcasm, as the “share out” is indeed actually the new bain of my lackluster existence. I actually cannot provide a clear and/or rational reason as to why this is, why my hatred for this meager two-word phrase is so very strong. I do not hate the word share and I do not hate the word out. Both of these dainty, less-than-five-character words sit perfectly fine with me. That said, when smashed together, somehow they morph from perfectly fine to absolutely abhorrent. Yes, I did say abhorrent. Every time I hear someone utter the “share out”, whether mid-client-call, internal status and/or merely in dialogue, I immediately judge them. Well, no I don’t. Wait, yes I do. The now ever-widespread “share-out” somehow seems draped in arrogance, donning a velvet cloak of pompousness and speaking in a British accent. All the things, yes all of the bad things. I think you get the gist on this one, Buns, so, moving on.

2.       “Get ahead of”. I understand the meaning of this terse little three-worder. I get it, kids, really I do. The get-ahead-of is a euphamism for the antonym (read: how confusing can I make this) of procrastination. It's a pre-think, a pre-read, a pre-align... all of that and such. Note: the get-ahead-of is not to be confused with the ever-annoying get-after-it, the bain of all my hated expressions. But I digress. Getting ahead of something is being a proactive employee, a forward thinking human, an adults.. or whatever. In the media context, the get-ahead of is commonly loved by those in the creative realm, a la, getting ahead of deadlines, space closes, drop deads, storyboard due dates... blah blah and all the blahs. While the get-ahead-of is not a true made up media word/phrase, I have yet to witness anyone in the non-media world utilize this phrase in any normal (or any at all) capacity. So, henceforth be proven (is that a made up phrase in itself?), get ahead of comes in at #2 this quarter.

3.       “Ducks in a row”. An old classic, and yet, to-date unmentioned on the B-logue. I do love a good  ducks-in-a-row every now and again and in fact, just threw one out there a few minutes ago. "We would like to get our ducks in a row before regrouping internally to align to the implementation of the flight...." and on and on and on with the jargon.  Ducks lining up in order, what a cute little paradigm right? It says so much. Ducks lining up for roll call, just like a well-maintained media campaign. I know, my heart is just melting over here. Shut up, Rachel. But yes, I find the ducks-in-a-row to be an apropos expression from time to time and feel it deserves space #3 for its widespread application ability. Go ducks. Er, yeah.

4.       “Chasing the rabbit”. This was a new one I heard a few weeks back for the first time since… wait, not since. Ever. Chasing the rabbit. Let’s not “chase the rabbit on this project”, uttered one client, during a totally numbers-heavy, serious presentation. I think I agree? Let’s not chase him. Or her. Or it. Er, what does this mean in a work context, I ask you? Let’s not chase our tails and spin in unneeded circles perhaps? Let’s get shit done quickly? I tend to think the meaning of this seemingly casual kitschy phrase in a work capacity endeavors to be as such. If you ask me, though, I could certainly come up with a better way of, uh, getting the point across to get ‘er done, without the rabbit reference. (And clearly, if you know me, since you’re reading the Bunnylogue and all, you know bunny-biased is the last thing I am, being a Bunny myself.). So I’ll end this one on that. Down the work rabbit hole I will NOT go.

I just deleted #5, for I will save it for MUMW #4... or #5... or whatever version I am up to. 

Until then, babes or bunnies, or whoever you may be, stay classy, stay sassy, be cool and such.

Cheers,

Rachel 

Namaste

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.” -Marianne Williamson from A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of “A Course in Miracles”

https://www.recoverywarriors.com/michele-kabas/

Thank you, Michele.

A week in work wear

a momentary self centric glimpse into my color-sparse diverse yet predictable sense of style. #aweekswork #black

WENDY. ME. DVR. THAT'S ALL. :) :)

Slow Down

It is only when you slow down that you can take a moment to see the beauty around you. It's only then that you can see the boats as you run along the water, feel the magnificent air on your sweaty face, or see the thousands of other humans doing the same around you.

In a city so crowded as this one but even more, in a world so vast, the ability to block out everything around us is uncanny. Why do I say us when I mean me? Good question. I mean me. I do mean me. My ability, that of my very own. This unbelievable and absurd ability I've honed to block out everything around me and yet, only somehow absorb everyone else's joy but my own. What a strange oxymoronical irony, I know.

But here I sit. And here I am. Just little, too little, old me. And now here I am.

Sometimes you have to strip away the old to make room for the new. That's the old saying, right, the old adage, the eye-roll-inducing line. But no, don't roll your eyes. 

I rolled my eyes, too. I understand. I rolled my eyes so far back into my head at this very thought for so long I think I lost them back there. But not anymore. The universe is quite a place, full of distractions, treadmills, juices, diets... all of that. It is such a strange and crowded place. But I think maybe and only maybe, that the universe is also a place of authenticity and one that just might look out for you once in a while. 

I was never one for signs. Probably still am not. But I do know where I was just a few months ago... and I know where I am now. I was crippled by my possessions. Unable to move in my apartment, my brain.  I had no room for anything else. Possessions, more possessions, I just couldn't seem to reach the end of them. There were always more to be had. That, and that, and another one of that, wait that too, and more of those and that too! Until -- no, there is no room left here. I have no room on this sidewalk in the realm of my personal street, the sidewalk of possessions is ending. And I must stop. And then, just like that, I did.

All the running, the physical running, the treadmills and Nikes, the fast-paced speed of life, relentless denial of feeling and reality So much speed. Running away from anything real. Running and buying and possessing and more possessing. I honestly don't know where it ended and where it began. But what was it all for? For what exactly? Joy? No. Fulfillment? None. So many things only crowd an already-crowded soul. And a soul should have the space to breathe. Mine did not. 

So I decided to let go of some of the crap weighing down my heart and my mind. And my little old self. It was just too much to hold up, my muscles aren't that strong and so I am letting it go.  And now that I stripped (and am still stripping as we speak) it all away, here in this moment, stripped away the bags, the make-up, jewelry, the job, now what is left? What remains here in this little spot on the eleventh floor of the world? All that remain here now is me, little old me. Little old me with less stuff but even less inside. For now. 

The thing is, this is the way it needs to be. I needed to come to this place, to get here, to finally land in this spot of simplicity, realness, and truth. Somehow I had to be forced to be able to see clearly enough to KNOW I had to stand in my own truth. And I was. 

Me, my journey to get here, to both the end and the beginning, it somehow began without my even knowing. right here, in my own heart, my own very little body and in my own city, my journey started itself. It didn't tell me but I am grateful that it did. 

The thing is, there are so many distractions and ways to escape, to numb the sobering realities of the mundane roteness of everyday life. I know all of them all too well. But when you turn off the TV and pull out the headphones, you can allow yourself to just be. Take the breath. Force yourself to feel your regular stomach expand when you breathe deeply. When you slow down and take a breath, take an authentic, long, unrushed breath, it is then and only then when you can begin to heal.

Me, I'm just starting to breathe. I'm a grown-up, three decades and more under my belt and I am only just learning to breathe like the worthy person I am. I deserve to take in the world. It is a beautiful place but only now can I see that, with the time and willingness to see it.

And even though I am just now starting, I feel fortunate to have found the key to unlock that horrible big black door about which I have previously written. That ominous and threatening padlocked door I once saw clouding all my sun. The thing is, I still see it, it's right there right now, so tall and hard to open. But the key is dangling here on my pinky finger... and at least there's that. 

Perhaps it was not me who found the key. Probably not. In fact, I know not. Maybe like I posited before, the universe does sometimes send us a sign. And I think maybe this was my sign. This moment in time, this beautiful summer and peaceful stretch. It is all so new to me. But i do think we all must learn to listen to our own cues when we hear them. Unclog your ears and your mind enough to be open to receive them. Like I am doing now. Or, well, at least try to.

Because I believe I am living through my sign. I didn't seek it out but it happened anyway. Slow down and stop running, it said. Stop running physically and stop running emotionally. stop running away and sucking it all in and just take the damn breath. It's time to just take the breath. Feel the pain. Cry the tears. All of those. Because all those things -- those are things that are real. Bags and jewelry, beauty and fakery,,, those are things that are not real. 

So here I am again, and here I am now. Slowing. Down. Right here, in the confines of my own space, my own place and my own city. I am slowing down in life and taking it all in. The good, what little of it I am finding these days but taking it in all the same, the less-than-good, and all that comes along with it.

And that, well, that is all just okay for me.

~Rachel