Rant 51 May 2009: Rituals of renewal

May 17th, 2009  |  Published in 2009 rants  |  17 Comments

On April 4, 2009, I celebrated my second birthday.

Actually it was my first second birthday. One year since I quit my job.

I came up with the concept of a “second birthday” after a friend of mine made a major, life-changing transition that ultimately left her much happier than before. The second birthday is the day you’re reborn. You decide when that will be. It’s your birthday, after all.

Now, most life transitions don’t happen in a single exciting day. Often they sneak up on us, and we suddenly realize that in some way, we’re six months better than we were before.

But sometimes, there is a brief period of time during which we decide no more or I’m going to try that. And we take some big step that ultimately leads us down a path we never could have anticipated. Looking back, we realize that at that moment the universe kicked us in the ass. We’ve ended up as new people.

Hence, second birthday.

The idea of rebirth and renewal is as old as the seasons. (As Monty Python explained in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, “Autumn changed into winter… winter changed into spring… spring changed back into autumn and autumn gave winter and spring a miss and went straight on into summer.”)

Culturally, we mark some life passages but not others. As the etiquette doyennes advised, “A lady should not appear in the newspaper except on three occasions: when she’s born, when she’s married, and when she dies.” Running for world leader is obviously not part of this scenario. (On the other hand, perhaps following this advice would have prevented the human car crashes of Lindsay Lohan and Tara Reid.)

However, there isn’t yet a greeting card for things like:

  • Getting your shit together
  • Getting your first period
  • Paying off your credit card and getting out of soul-crushing debt
  • Kicking your jackass leech partner to the curb
  • Your first real squat (I’m working on this)

I think this reflects some short-sightedness on behalf of Hallmark.

Life provides us with abundant opportunities for self-reinvention. How often have you caught yourself saying things like:

  • I’m too old.
  • I’m not the kind of person who ____
  • I’m not good enough to ____
  • I’m a ____ (and thus ____)
  • I’m someone who ____

The way we describe ourselves determines our realities.

For example, I’ve noticed that for some people, there is a time that they decide they are “old”. It’s almost literally an overnight process. For some reason they decide, definitively, that they are “old”. And now that they are “old” their world becomes significantly smaller.

For one man, this happened when he lost his driver’s license. (And for that, the rest of the world was grateful.) Within the space of a few weeks, his body started to droop. He got a kind of glazed look on his face and sat depressed and sullen in his chair. Basically, he just stopped giving a shit about life in general.

For another woman, this happened when she fell down while skating. She wasn’t really hurt, but it scared her. She became fearful and apprehensive. She convinced herself she was frail. She could barely summon the courage to leave the house to get groceries.

Meanwhile, my octogenarian grandmother, she of the osteoporotic spine, dead husband, and atrocious childhood, defiantly hauls her spongy, crumbling bones out into the garden to tend her roses, or out into a Kenora winter for her daily walk. She likes to tell the story of how she met a bear on the road while walking with a baby carriage. (To be clear, dear reader, Grandma had the baby carriage, not the bear.) When I call her, she is sharp as a tack even though I have to yell a bit down the phone. No fucking way she is sitting around in God’s waiting room. She has shit to do!

In all cases, it’s evident that “old” isn’t about objective measurements of age or health. It’s about a conscious decision to define oneself in a particular way, which then changes one’s reality.

Think about the words and metaphors you use to define yourself. Think also about the words and metaphors you use to define your life. For instance:

  • I’m on a treadmill.
  • I’m a go-getter.
  • I’m on a career path.

We’re symbolic beings. We think in ideas and metaphors. Ever been to another country and been baffled by their vernacular expressions? Lie in Russian and you’re “hanging noodles on your ears”. Irritate an Armenian and you’re “ironing their head”.

Remember that episode of Star Trek TNG where they went to the metaphor planet? People talked only in reference to folk stories and proverbs. It’d be like saying “Goldilocks’ porridge” instead of “just right”. If you didn’t know the stories you’d have no idea what the hell anyone was talking about.

If you did know the stories, your reality would be full of images and concepts that then affected how you thought about the world. You’d quite likely imagine noodle ears every time you thought someone was making a fib.

When we butt up against a reality that doesn’t match the one we’ve constructed for ourselves, we respond in a few ways.

  • We may remove ourselves from it entirely. “That’s not me.”
  • We may defend ourselves against its potential entry into our brains. “I guess I could, but I won’t.”
  • We may feel guilt for not incorporating it into our world. “I should…”
  • We may, in rare cases, decide to accept it into our universe. In that case, we change.

We carry around a “toolbox” of ideas and images about ourselves. When we find a new situation, we pull out our tools, and see which ones we can use. And if all we have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.

So much of what we do actually comes from our identity constructions. We do things (or not) because of who we think we are, not because of what we can truly do.

Don’t believe me? Try an experiment. For the next week, say to yourself, “I’m an athlete.” Imagine yourself to be in training for something. You are an athlete who must eat, train, and recover properly for your sport. Your body must be strong, fast, and powerful. It must be nourished. You are an athlete. Forget about whether you’re “really” that person. Just pretend. Call yourself an athlete and play dress-up for the world.

Guess what happens? Suddenly, your workouts become a lot more meaningful. You imagine yourself striding in front of a cheering crowd as you tramp down the street. You think twice about that chili dog. A lot of stuff changes — and all you did was change a few words in your brain.

When I was a kid, one of my chores was to clean up the kitchen after dinner. I always found unloading the dishwasher to be a drag. So I imagined that I was in a dishwasher-unloading competition. I imagined an arena full of people, gathered to watch mighty feats of dishwasher-clearing. I became preoccupied with different techniques — which one was faster? More efficient? Would I be speedier if I did things categorically (all spoons at once) or spatially (right to left? back to front?). Suddenly I got a real kick out of unloading the dishwasher. To this day, that image still pops into my mind.

Again, nothing changed, except the way I thought about myself. The dishwasher was still there, same as always, full of clean dishes awaiting attention.

My old coach used to have a great piece of advice before competitions. Two words: highlight reel. We were to imagine a “highlight reel” of some of the crazy shit we tried to pull off. We imagined that movie in our heads, with some wicked music, before we competed. Regardless of whether we won or lost, we’d put in a good show that would then make an awesome montage. Imagining how the movie of your life would look is another way to get “outside yourself”.

Which brings me back to the second birthday. The day I walked out of my job, then got on to a plane to compete at the NAGA Worlds, I decided I was different. Sure, some things were “really” different. For one thing, I was unemployed. But I could easily have gone back to find another job in the same domain. I decided that I was a new person, and that new person would not accept the old constraints.

Nothing changed. Except my mind.

I marked the calendar for April 4.

This year I celebrated the second birthday with a cake. I made a fuss over myself. I renewed my commitment to living differently.

Not long after, I did an interview with a website called LeavingAcademia.com.

Podcast #1: There are places that would walk over their own mother to hire you

Podcast #2: Hey! If you get tenure, you’ll feel this bad for 30 years!

Podcast #3: There is no provision in academia to care for or nurture the physical self.

If you read this site and think to yourself, “I could never do that”, ask yourself why.

Are you truly limited by physical reality? For example, if you don’t have any arms, you probably won’t be very good at pullups. I suspect, however, that applies to 0.001% of you.

birthday_monkeyOr are you limited by your toolbox?

Catch yourself saying:

  • I’m ____
  • I can’t
  • I won’t
  • I should / should not

Ask yourself: What’s in my toolbox? Is it time to hit the mental Home Depot?

Ask yourself: What happens if today is different?

And if today becomes different for you, think ahead a year from now. You will get cake.

A recent article in the New Scientist examines what’s known as the “nocebo” effect — where a sham therapy makes things worse. It’s the opposite of the placebo effect, wherein a pretend medication or therapy makes things better. In both cases, people believe that something will occur, so it does.

Take Sam Shoeman, who was diagnosed with end-stage liver cancer in the 1970s and given just months to live. Shoeman duly died in the allotted time frame — yet the autopsy revealed that his doctors had got it wrong. The tumour was tiny and had not spread. “He didn’t die from cancer, but from believing he was dying of cancer,” says Meador. “If everyone treats you as if you are dying, you buy into it. Everything in your whole being becomes about dying”… In clinical trials, around a quarter of patients in control groups — those given supposedly inert therapies — experience negative side effects. The severity of these side effects sometimes matches those associated with real drugs…

The ultimate cause of the nocebo effect, however, is not neurochemistry but belief. According to Hahn, surgeons are often wary of operating on people who think they will die — because such patients often do. And the mere belief that one is susceptible to a heart attack is itself a risk factor. One study found that women who believed they are particularly prone to heart attack are nearly four times as likely to die from coronary conditions than other women with the same risk factors.

Despite the growing evidence that the nocebo effect is all too real, it is hard in this rational age to accept that people’s beliefs can kill them. After all, most of us would laugh if a strangely attired man leapt about waving a bone and told us we were going to die. But imagine how you would feel if you were told the same thing by a smartly dressed doctor with a wallful of medical degrees and a computerful of your scans and test results…

Depressed after splitting up with his girlfriend, Derek Adams took all his pills, then regretted it. Fearing he might die, he asked a neighbour to take him to hospital, where he collapsed. Shaky, pale and drowsy, his blood pressure dropped and his breaths came quickly.

Yet lab tests and toxicology screening came back clear. Over the next 4 hours Adams received 6 litres of saline, but improved little.

Then a doctor arrived from the clinical trial of an antidepressant in which Adams had been taking part. Adams had enrolled in the study about a month earlier. Initially he had felt his mood buoyed, but an argument with his ex-girlfriend saw him swallow the 29 remaining tablets.

The doctor revealed that Adams was in the control group. The pills he had “overdosed” on were harmless. Hearing this, Adams was surprised and tearfully relieved. Within 15 minutes he was fully alert, and his blood pressure and heart rate had returned to normal.


  1. Elizabeth says:

    May 17th, 2009at 9:11 am(#)

    Krista. You are so inspiring.

  2. Rachel says:

    May 17th, 2009at 9:14 am(#)

    Good gracious I appreciated this post.

  3. JD says:

    May 18th, 2009at 8:40 am(#)

    Great post! I was missing the Rants.

  4. Trishy says:

    May 18th, 2009at 10:39 am(#)

    I see around me such extreme examples of young people (for example, in their early 30s) acting like they are too old to live anymore; those people are old because they think they are, so they behave as such. These people are in stark contrast to those who are decades older and behave like kids. I don’t mean they are immature, I mean they have retained that zest for life that you see in children more than anyone else. I wish I could help the people in the former category, and make them realize how much potential they still have, but I think those sorts of realizations have to come from within.

  5. Sam says:

    May 18th, 2009at 7:04 pm(#)

    Great post and Happy Birthday. I must still be in the gestational stage, but hope to hit BDay #1 soon. I suppose in order change one’s thinking, one needs also change their view/vision. Which is a nicer way to say I need get my head out of my a$$.


  6. Sharon says:

    May 20th, 2009at 8:36 am(#)

    I know people that Trishy describes: people who still have a curiosity and zest for life that folks much younger seemed to have lost all too early.

    Krista, Your quote about ‘getting old':
    “For some reason they decide, definitively, that they are “old”. And now that they are “old” their world becomes significantly smaller.”

    The example I know of, is this guy I know that used to drink A LOT and then be somewhat ok the next morning. Now, at the ripe old age of 37, (and after absolutely no exercise or healthy eating of any kind in his life), he has decided that he is old, and boo hoo “can’t drink like I used to”.
    What a sad little measuring stick!

  7. Braidwood says:

    May 20th, 2009at 9:22 pm(#)

    This post was so freaking helpful to me. Thank you! I’m in the midst of what I’m hoping is going to be a birth! I think its a birth. Its just an amazingly long labour and I don’t know yet what I’m going to be when I’m born.

    BTW, I turned 35 on April 4th. :) So we share a birthday. :)


  8. Kate Ussailis says:

    May 28th, 2009at 2:28 pm(#)

    Happy Birthday!

    It’s funny that you write about this now. I’ve been struggling with a few comments made to me by otherwise very common-sensical friends regarding my relationship with the gym and moving my body: that I’m getting older and should ‘be careful’ or that I just have to ‘accept the way things are’ because I’m middle aged now. (For the record, I’m 36.) They told me that I can’t ever get rid of the squishy bits on my body and I think one of them believes that my fervent passion in acrobatics (I’m a beginner) is a waste of time. I’m too old, after all.

    And then (and here’s where your wonderful greeting cards hit the spot), despite those well-meaning, but terribly wrong friends (and, I should note, despite the somewhat apprehensive trainer), I did my FIRST SQUAT in the cage yesterday! It was so glorious! There was an instant sound track in my head! I can’t wait to do more! I can even envision myself with strong thighs! That first squat made all those negative comments go away pretty instantly.

    Of course I can do this. Of course I’ll someday do a pull up. I’ll also press up into a handstand. I’m an athlete. :)

    Thank you so much for ranting this particular rant. It made my day!

  9. sam says:

    May 28th, 2009at 5:27 pm(#)


    Wow, you’re middle-aged at 36??? I guess my elderly body doesn’t know that it’s 48 – good thing or I’d never get up from the SQUAT. Congrats on your lift, and here’s wishing you many, many more.

    I have friends just like your – they mean well, but they just don’t understand that it’s inactivity that is what makes you feel yucky. Just keep doing what you’re doing and blogging these sites. There is great support out here for anyone who’s interested in pushing the boundaries. Krista’s site is superb, as is GymJunkies.com.

    Good luck and good lifting.


    PS I bought a heavy bag and have had sooooo much fun with it, everyone should get one!!!! And a vivid imagination makes it even better!

  10. Ingrid says:

    June 13th, 2009at 1:30 am(#)

    Fantastic rant! Thank you!

    I am currently going through all the lovely bits associated with menopause & I can’t tell you how many times my doctor has said (after injuries have slowed me down a bit) “let’s face it, you’re getting old.”

    Like you Krista, I don’t believe that age has anything to do with it. It’s all in your head…. although I think some of the physical discomforts are quite real (hot flushes for example), but I know they will pass when my body has adjusted to its new state.

    Being young is a state of mind, and my body just has to catch up with my head!

  11. Jenny says:

    June 13th, 2009at 1:27 pm(#)

    The dishwasher-unloading-competition detail is excellent!

    It is interesting – I just started working out with a new trainer, a former Olympian sprinter who coaches fast high-schoolers – and halfway through our first session, he said something like “Since you are an athlete already,…” I was taken aback, I felt slightly as though I were an athlete under false pretences! But in fact I really am an athlete now – I never was before the last couple years – but one is not disbarred from claiming the identity just because it is a new set of habits and a new way of thinking about oneself…

  12. Robert says:

    June 21st, 2009at 10:05 am(#)

    “Live your life as a fictional character” said the reluctant messiah.

    Always loved this rant, Krista.

  13. Jeannine Grube says:

    June 21st, 2009at 11:44 pm(#)

    I needed your encouragement! I am struggling with a set back after a vacation from my weight lifting program. The problems are more mental than physical. I worry too much about inconveniencing others because I have goals. And I struggle with the responsibilities of being a mom of a 2 year old and a wife of a husband that does not have goals.

    anyway, thanks for your empowering writing.


  14. Mistress Krista says:

    June 22nd, 2009at 5:07 am(#)

    “The problems are more mental than physical” — they almost always are. :) Remember the advice they give on airlines: put your own oxygen mask on before assisting others. You can’t help others if you destroy yourself in the process. Make yourself strong so you can do your job.

  15. Jeannine Grube says:

    June 22nd, 2009at 4:55 pm(#)

    “Make yourself strong so you can do your job”– That’ll be my mantra as I go about my business. Thanks!

  16. A Quiet Sunday « Maspik Teruzim says:

    June 29th, 2009at 9:55 am(#)

    […] online reading included: – Krista’s May 17th rant. The money quote for me was actually from the comment thread: “Remember the advice they give […]

  17. Debra says:

    October 5th, 2010at 10:27 am(#)

    Just the weekend I told my boyfriend I am now comfortable saying, “I am a martial artist.” I may not be good at it, but I try, I read, I practice, I watch videos, I study my notes, and I show up for class. I am a martial artist.”

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