Beauty Tips for Ministers

Privacy, Please

May 10, 2008 on 9:02 pm | In Clergy Image, Poise |

Privacy Please happens to be the name of the lovely, delicate and sheer pink nail polish I’m wearing right now (by OPI), but the issue of privacy also happens to be on my mind this evening, as I drink Gatorade and thank God for having made it through an 8-hour class today. Not only do I have an Evil Stomach Bug, I threw my back out a few days ago and woke up this morning in absolute agony (the bug and the back may be related, I know how that can work).

Lower back-pain sufferers, can I get a sympathetic “AMEN?” If I tell you that I was flinging around heavy furniture on Wednesday, will you still sympathize, or will you smack me upside the head as I deserve? Don’t be afraid to do the latter; what was I thinking ? I know better than that, I really do.

So I awoke this morning in a friend’s guest room in too much pain to put on my pants from a standing position, to reach for the radio dial in the car without gasping and wincing, or to do much but take two Advil (Lord, spare my stomach lining!)and hope that a brisk ten minute walk before class might help with my general alignment. I knew I would be in class from 9-5 and prayed for the stamina to make it through.

I am eternally grateful to my professor and the others in our small class for encouraging me to do “whatever it takes” to be as comfortable as possible throughout the day. I decided to follow their advice and got up frequently –and I hope, unobtrusively– from my chair in order to walk quietly around the room, do some gentle bending or to get my knees moving. At one point I stretched out on the floor in the back of the room, hidden by chairs, and carefully pumped my right leg straight up into the air. I am convinced that this fifteen-minute period of yoga stretching and working out that leg saved me from many additional days of suffering because I felt immensely relieved afterwards.

Except that of course it must have been distracting even from behind an armory of chairs and I’m sure I looked most undignified. Had I been in a ministerial setting I would have most certainly excused myself from the gathering in order to contort myself in this fashion — and it occurred to me that I might need to discuss this issue with you all, my Lovely Incarnate Ones.

Were you at that conference with me when one of the attendees took out her insulin and needles at the dinner table and proceeded to loudly call attention to herself and her subsequent injection, causing me to almost swoon to the floor when the needle pierced her skin? She wasn’t a minister, but she will forever be my poster girl for the Indiscreet Sharing of Those Things That Should More Appropriately Remain Private Ministrations. On the poster with her might be the Minister Who Clips His Toe Nails During TV Time On Retreat, the Pastor Who Digs a Bit Too Busily In His Nostrils With His Hankie During a Vestry Meeting, the Reverend Who Wears a Heating Pad For Cramps During Counseling Sessions,* and the Priest Who Excuses Herself From Eating Bread at The Dinner Party With a Lengthy And Graphic Explanation of Effect of Celiac’s Disease On Her Digestive System.

Oh darlings, I’ve done it. I’ve over-shared. When I had serious and debilitating gynecological problems this past fall that led to overuse of Advil that led to a trip to the Emergency Room ’cause my stomach lining was basically in shreds, some parishioners went with me and told others who worried, and of course I gave them the gist of my medical situation. I love and trust them, and they love and care about me. But there is a time and a place, and that time and place is at a relatively private moment outside one’s study with a small gaggle of dearly beloveds, not at a dinner party or at coffee hour. Not at social time at the retreat, and not during Religious Education class.

Use your best judgment. Getting up from your seat periodically and gently stretching is one thing. Engaging in full-out calisthenics on the floor like a fat waterbug is entirely another, and although I’m willing to subject a supportive class of seminarians and ministers to the sight, never would I be caught in such an inelegant position by my parishioners. There are some positions only my chiropractor should see me in. Maintain some mystery, darlings. Just plunk it all in under the general heading of Boundaries and be well.

Me, I’m heading back to bed with my cat snuggled under one arm and my beagle snuggled under the other. Neither of them has any boundaries whatsoever and I love them for it.

*Nursing a baby, however, is fine and need never be apologized for. There are all kinds of ways to do so modestly without sharing portions of your anatomy that you’d rather stayed your private business. The heating pad doesn’t need to be explained — any woman will know what it’s for and if any man asks just tell him it’s an old sports injury. With a straight face. How about, “It’s from an old sports injury I got when I rowed for Harvard Crew.”
When he says, “I didn’t know you rowed crew,” you can say, “I didn’t. But will you spread a rumor around church that I did? And by the way, my health is perfectly fine, thanks for asking.”