This Might Make You Squirm a Little

I’ve stopped shaving my armpits.

For now, anyway. It’s an experiment, or maybe more of an investigation.

I realized recently that I have no idea what naturally-occurring growth looks like in that location because I’ve been systematically eliminating it since about 1978, when the growth began. Which is funny when you think about it, because a few inches down my arms exists hair that I’ve deemed “acceptable” and have not felt the need to banish, ever.

It made me kind of sad, the not-knowing, so as a small act of understanding myself better, I’m letting my body show me what she’s made to do. It’s as simple as that.

Are you sweating yet, wondering about the next homework assignment? 🤪

There will be homework suggestions, but I’ll get to those later.

And in case you’re wondering, yeah, I’ve been a little embarrassed writing this. The voices in my head are saying, “No one wants to visualize your armpits” and “Why not write about something safer?” and “You’re going to lose people — you better not linger here too long” and then the little devil on my other shoulder wants to add, “like a bad odor” for a bit of armpit humor.

I also know that my readers span a wide spectrum. You could be on the Never Bought Into the Feminine Beauty Standards Bullsh*t/What’s The Big Deal? end of it, or closer to the Please Stop Talking About Armpit Hair/I’m Super Uncomfortable end. Or anyplace in between. Specific readers’ faces (possibly yours!) have been parading through my head while I guess each one’s reaction.

There’s never a dull moment in my mind.

I’ve also been tempted to apologize for talking about armpits, but that’s kind of the point. Why all the shame around our bodies? Who decided we shouldn’t talk about underarm hair, especially women’s?

The Danger of “Mind Over Matter”

To answer my own question about shame, we could point to what Clarissa Pinkola-Estés calls the overculture, meaning the messages we’ve received from our non-indigenous spiritual beliefs plus the trendy behaviors we see around us. (Think: Colonial Puritan repression superimposed with thousands of hours of TV commercials and Instagram feeds. How’s that for a shame-fest recipe?)

Embedded in the overculture stew is the notion that our mind is the boss of us — that the mind rules the body. It’s the smart part, the grown-up component of our human operation. “Mind over matter” was a popular saying when I was in college and my ‘20s. Put your mind to it, and you can do anything. To be called cerebral sounds like a noble thing, high praise.

The body in this model is like the beefy sidekick we see in movies: clumsy and stupid, but useful for carrying out the mastermind’s plan. To be called corporeal sounds like an insult — you’re overly fleshy; there’s more of you than we need.

I confess to having spent most of my life, from puberty to menopause, trying to force my body to comply with my mind’s wishes. I’d deny her certain foods and give her too much of others. I worked her past exhaustion and rarely allowed her enough sleep. I exercised her to the point of pain and bruises, and felt proud of the pain and the bruises I’d inflicted.

The mind in this model is like an abusive, sadistic parent. One that would definitely draw the attention of Child Protective Services.

Why Not Matter over Mind?

I’m convinced now that my body is in fact the smarter one, and I want to put her in charge. She’s brimming with native intelligence that I’ve only begun to comprehend. Eventually maybe everyone on the team will have equal status — mind, body, soul, spirit — but to correct the historical imbalance I’m making the body “parent” and the mind “child” for a while. I encourage you to experiment with this role reversal, too.

What does it look like when the body is head of the household-of-Self?

Putting The Body In Charge

Well, how does a child think? Since we’re reversing roles, this is a useful question. What do little kids value? How do they act when out on a walk, or eating a meal?

You might wince, picturing anarchy with Cheerios flying everywhere, but that’s another imprint from the overculture. There’s a never-to-be-repeated study from Canada in the late 1930s showing that babies as young as 6 months old were able to choose for themselves, from a selection of 33 nutritious options, a diet that led to excellent health over six years. The sample size was small and the researcher, Clara M Davis, left questions unanswered, but the children involved seemed to intuitively know both how much to eat and which foods their bodies needed.

And why should we be surprised at this? Nearly every other creature* comes into the world knowing more or less how to care for itself.

Child development experts debunked the idea of infants as blank slates to be imprinted upon a while ago, but the culture has been slower to accept the innate wisdom of our smallest humans. Plus they can’t vote or make money, so they’re kind of a drag on the neo-liberal system we’ve been raised in. Representing all Cost and no Benefit in this economic framework, we’ve severely undervalued our society’s children for decades.

I don’t advocate electing preschoolers to public office, but there’s plenty we grown folks can learn from them.

Learning From Toddlers

Two traits come to mind, where young children excel:
1) Children pay attention to small things that most adults overlook or take for granted. (Bugs, cracks in the sidewalk, tiny flowers…) This keeps them present, in the moment, grounded in truth.
2) Instead of judging, they’re full of curiosity and awe. (I loved touching the soft wrinkles on my Grandma’s face.)

Here are some examples — some small “body noticings” I’ve had lately — that might help you design your own homework for Putting The Body In Charge.

1) Pay Close Attention

A couple of years ago I was staying with a friend in the high desert of Central Oregon. It was exactly this time of year: early fall, with misty mornings, sunny afternoons, and a crisp chill in the evening.

I went for a jog around midday, and it was pretty hot out, maybe in the high 80s. I don’t run that often anymore, so when I started feeling uncomfortable about 20 minutes in, my brain immediately said, “You could stop and walk.” And as though anyone cared, it added, “No one would fault you for stopping — it’s a hot day! Everyone would understand. You’re in your 50s after all. You’re doing well just being out here.” My brain knows exactly which talking points will resonate.

But my body was really enjoying this run, I could tell. My legs felt strong and I wasn’t winded; my lungs were doing fine. Those parts of me were bummed at the thought of stopping. So I shushed my brain and paid closer attention to what the problem was.

Turns out I was thirsty. The heat wasn’t the issue, I just wasn’t used to the dry air. My system needed water.

I’d noticed a public restroom with a drinking fountain a little ways back, so I headed there, got a drink, and kept going. I let my body get all the exercise she wanted, and tuned in to find out when she — not my brain, not the clock — decided it was time to stop. Wow, did she love that run.

This was a small incident that I could have easily overlooked (as the brain-parent), but a huge deal for the body-child that had grown accustomed to being ignored. Imagine seeking someone’s attention for decades and decades, where disappointment is the norm, then, finally one day that someone listens to you! And heeds your suggestion! No wonder she felt so exhilarated. No wonder this minuscule event left an impression on me.

My body loves to move. All bodies do — it’s what they’re designed for. How often do we make up excuses because our mind doesn’t feel like letting our body do what it wants?

This is worth paying attention to, no matter how trivial it seems. You might choose this kind of listening for your homework.

2) Replace Judgment With Wonder

After showering recently, I was bent over drying my shins and ankles when I caught sight of the folds of my belly skin hanging loose. My first reaction was, “Ugh! Yikes! Ick! That’s NOT what a woman’s stomach is supposed to look like!”

Then I thought, “Hey, that’s the part of me that stretched to accommodate an entire new little human, not once but twice! And was elastic enough to almost shrink back to its original shape. That’s exactly what a middle-aged mother of two grown children’s stomach is supposed to look like. What a freakin’ miracle this body is.”

Maybe your homework will be to catch yourself talking to your body like a playground bully, and change your tune. Appreciate the magic that has always been there. Show it some reverence. Pay homage to the loyal companion that keeps serving you no matter how badly you treat it.

What We’ve Done Here Together

I don’t know whether anything I wrote today caused you to squirm. How much it did or didn’t, that’s worth paying attention to. What attitudes surfaced? Did alarm bells sound?

My challenge was to write it without flinching too much, or chickening out. I wanted to treat my body as my mind’s equal, not as something to awkwardly back away from.

We’ve been shoe-horned into a whole set of norms when it comes to thinking about, talking about, looking at, and listening to the body. As I’ve suggested over the last few blog posts, learning to love and honor our own bodies is a necessary step toward truly valuing the bodies of our fellow humans and our planet.

Conversely, the only way that humans can be trained to inflict harm on other humans — beings we’re wired to instinctively care for and protect — is to detach from our own feelings and bodily sensations. If we’re numb to ourselves, we can be numb to the pain of others, and oblivious to the damage we’re doing to the earth. The attitude of non-caring starts right here inside us.

But so does the attitude of caring.

Homework

The homework suggestions I mentioned (truly paying attention to what your body wants and marveling at the experiences you’ve shared) are tiny acts of rebellion against the overculture. We need more of them, and they’re completely within our grasp. (👈🏽Body pun.) At a time when so much in our world feels overwhelming, rather than spinning out in a panic, start right where you are: your relationship with your Very. Own. Body.

It’s as simple as studying your armpits. 😉

Humbly,
Pam
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As always, I love to hear your responses. How have you recently shifted your attitude toward your body? What are your current challenges, or new insights? You can leave a comment on my blog, or if you’re receiving this in an email, just hit “reply.”

*We learned at the Alameda County Fair that turkeys need to be shown how to eat and drink when they’re young.