Body Obsessives: The Disconnect Between Aesthetics And The Joy Of Movement
Illustration from the endlessly talented @RebeccaJournal on Instagram.
“I believe that we live in a world that is deeply obsessed with our bodies; how they appear to others, how they move, how they are clothed, and how they compare to those around us.
Consider this quote from John Berger’s highly influential work, ‘Ways of Seeing’:
“A woman is always accompanied, except when quite alone, and perhaps even then, by her own image of herself. While she is walking across a room or weeping at the death of her father, she can scarcely avoid envisaging herself walking or weeping. From earliest childhood she is taught and persuaded to survey herself continually. She has to survey everything she is and everything she does, because how she appears to others- and particularly how she appears to men — is of crucial importance for what is normally thought of as the success of her life. Her own sense of being in herself is supplanted by a sense of being appreciated as herself by another....”
Now I like to think that this is changing, and that hopefully, this quote seems less and less relevant to people as the years go on. But truth be told this quote, and many others from Berger’s book, strongly affected and challenged me deeply. What I find ironic about this notion that we are always accompanied by the image of ourselves, is that while we remain so obsessed with our bodies, we still remain so disembodied. By this I mean that we are so disconnected from how we actually live and move in the bodies that we have been gifted: how wonderfully they are able to perceive, to touch, smell and perceive the wonders that actually surround us. It feels as if today our bodies are increasingly out of our control - they are abused, harassed, neglected, assessed, both by ourselves and by those around us.
Our attention is being drawn in hundreds of directions. Our dependence on social media also contributes to this disconnection. As a photographer, I am constantly thinking about images, not only the images that I create for each of my clients, but how images can be deceptive and are inherently flat and non-dimensional. Our bodies are not — they live, move grow. Too often, my mind and my body feel disconnected. I feel out of tune with everything around me. I find myself grabbing passing images in an attempt to curate my identity. I overlook details of my day that are simply miraculous: wiggling my toes, walking down the stairs, and brushing my teeth. I forget that I am enough, just as I am at this very moment.
It feels as if today, more importantly than ever, we should exercise our abilities to fully embody ourselves, to reconnect with our senses, and realise that developing a relationship with ourselves takes practice. What if we re-directed our focus from how our bodies appear to how we actually feel within them and the miraculous things they can do?
There are practices that we can incorporate in our daily rhythms, practical ways for us to re-enter into our bodies, and I think they look different to each of us. For me, it is running.
Since childhood, I have been heavily involved in competitive sports. I exercised daily in order to reach my competitive goals, and it truly never felt like a chore to me. I was not aware of the pressure to look a certain way and considered exercising a pure joy in itself. During my time at university, I experienced a shift in my thinking. Exercise became more of a gateway for me, specifically to meet unrealistic aesthetics “goals” for the way I wanted my body to look like, and more specifically, how I wanted it to appear to others. Going to the gym became a prerequisite for that second cookie or a plate of pasta. It had nothing to do with my physical and mental wellbeing, and I suffered months of guilt and shame. I am proud to say that in recent years I have overcome what had developed into an exercise addiction, and I have made exercising, specifically running, a celebration of my body and of my privileged ability to move. My choice to wake up most mornings and run is entirely my own, and it is no longer about how I appear to others. From the moment I roll out of bed and put on my running shoes, I am choosing to reclaim myself and acknowledge myself in that very moment, at that very breath; to feel every stride, every ache and pain, to breathe fresh air into my lungs.
Running creates a space for me to confront myself. It is a conversation between me and my body. Sometimes, the conversation is one of ease and delight. Other times, it is much, much more difficult. Even during these harder days, I can still celebrate the fact that I can discern what my body, or even my mind, needs to recover and make the next day better. I ask myself certain questions:
Why was that run hard?
Have I slept enough?
Have I treated my body kindly this week?
What thoughts entered my mind?
Were they true, or were they a result of fear?
The practice that you choose to incorporate may look very different to mine, but hopefully you get the idea. I knew that running was my practice after I observed my behaviour over several weeks. After I run, long after the “runner’s high” that I experience, I feel as if I am more present with myself and those around me. I hope that this encourages you to observe the patterns of your daily life, and to determine which practice you could implement that makes you feel the same.”
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If you enjoyed reading this piece by Gianna and want to see more of her work, you can view her beautiful photography portfolio via www.giannanicole.co.