When is eating a cookie an act of rebellion?

As I plan my next retreat in Buenos Aires this Oct/Nov, I’ve been talking with friends about how to push boundaries. My goal for the retreat is not just to show people another way of life and to inspire them with the creative energy of the city, but also to encourage them to step into their own creativity and allow themselves to be a bit more of their natural selves. I hope that they can let down their barriers, let go of societal restraints and do something that makes them feel uncomfortable or silly.

As one mate said, I need to make sure people on the retreat aren’t just passengers along for the ride but full participants in the experience. 

Another friend told me about a behavioural therapist who helps people through phobias by putting them into (controlled) situations where they have to confront their fears. For one person with an intense fear of “making a scene” in public, the therapist accompanied him to a grocery store and when they were at the till, the therapist used a thermos of soup to pretend to throw up. The patient had to manage his anxiety at being in an awkward spotlight and learned that embarrassment is a passing emotion – no permanent damage done!

I’ve also been reading a brilliant book - Burning Woman by Lucy H. Pearce - that brought another dimension to my thinking about boundary pushing. It’s an exploration of power and the Feminine which was “written for women who burn with passion, have been burned with shame, and who at another time, in another place, would have been burned at the stake.” Reading the section about how shame has been used to control women for thousands of years, I was sad and angry at how the words resonated with me. 

“The breath of life must come from deep within. But instead of breathing deep into our bellies, we are told to hold them in. Our waists have been constricted by centuries of fashion from corsets to skinny jeans. We have been taught to turn the tools of oppression upon ourselves, our sisters and daughters. We have been taught to starve ourselves, deny our appetites, restrain ourselves in public to make ourselves smaller.” (Burning Woman, Lucy H. Pearce, 2016)

I can think of so many fundamental and traumatic ways in which this manifests, including women I have worked with who struggle to accept their sexual appetites and express their hunger. 

But for me, on the way home from visiting a friend, it was something smaller and a bit silly – but symbolic. I bought a chocolate chip cookie (I can never say no to a cookie) and with a long journey home decided to eat it on the tube. It was gooey and had gotten a bit bashed in the bag, so when I stuck my hand in to pull some out, it was messy and my fingers emerged covered in chocolate. I was instantly embarrassed – remember Women Who Eat on Tubes? – and started to pull out a tissue to clean myself up. But I stopped and asked myself why I felt ashamed. And decided that I really didn’t give a damn and was going to enjoy that messy cookie. So I did. I licked my fingers, I savoured every mouthful, I smiled in pleasure. I caught the eye of a woman sitting opposite who smiled and gave me a knowing look (no doubt a fellow Burning Woman). And at my stop, I walked off the train with my head held high. 

Sometimes something small can be an act of rebellion. I’m challenging myself to take the opportunities life throws at me to question why I constrain myself and to push through the fear and embarrassment. And I’m looking forward to creating different ways I can help others to push their boundaries too.