It was nine a.m., on a Wednesday morning, and I sat in a weekly marketing meeting listening intently to my employer’s plans to crush our competition. Midway through the third quarter projected earnings, my focus was diverted by a seriously bizarre event. I heard, and most disconcertingly felt, a buzzing, ringing sound. Maybe not so unusual, at first blush… but this sound that I was hearing and feeling… it was inside my head. Not good.

The sound rose and fell with machine-like precision. I began unobtrusively searching for the source of the buzzing. I worried that the strangle internal sound and vibration was a sign that I had become afflicted by the latest virus du jour or other –itus ending word. Or maybe this was some unexplained phenomenon like the Taos hum?

The strange buzzing took the form of a staccato telephone ring cycle, very… um… rhythmic. When I concentrated on locating the source I realized the buzzing was most intense near my side. So I leaned to one side, grabbed my sizeable love handle pulled the pudge up. At that moment, with startling volume, my cell phone gasped “RING! RING! RING!” As it was freed from the weight of my gut.

Embarrassed, I quickly hit the silent button on my cell phone.  I realized the ringing/buzzing sound in my head had been my cell’s vibrating “ring” traveling through my body, up through my torso and into my inner ear. For a moment, I couldn’t help but be a tad amused by the event. Amazing science! Sound waves amplified, traveling through fat. Entertaining yes. But also quite a shocking wake up call. The more I thought about the incident, the more disgusted I became with myself.

It sounds cliché, but your body really is your temple. You’ve only got one body in this life; you have to live in it, and others will judge you based on how you care for it.

The world is much like a job interview. At the office, your child’s school, even the grocery store, the people you interact with see your outside, not your inside. Job interviews give the employer a chance to see firsthand what you are all about and quite a bit rides on this first encounter. So what does your physical resume say about you? In this competitive world, does your physical resume say you lack motivation, you are trapped in the past, suffer from a host of medical conditions and that you don’t care about yourself? Not selflessness — that is something different. A slovenly appearance says you don’t care. To an employer, someone who can’t even take the time to show up clean and well groomed, would represent someone unorganized, irresponsible and lacking confidence. This also applies to the world at large.  You need to stop thinking, “Well if people love me they will simply love the inside me.” Good luck with that. Your “inside” you is only part of you, but it is the less obvious part; make the whole package great. Don’t drive around life in a crappy-looking car just because it runs well; have it all.

[i] J, Andreoni R. Petrie. “Journal of Economic Psychology.” University of California (2008) 73-93
Moderately attractive people took home seven percent less in earnings than their prettier co-workers. According to the study, the main reason for this was that attractive people are seen as more helpful and cooperative. The study also found that, of those participating in the study, 39 percent of attractive men and women were judged to be helpful, compared to 16 percent of moderately attractive people, and only 6 percent of unattractive people.

At one point in my life, I was a lifeguard. From there, I became a water safety instructor, and, since then, I have taught water safety and basic life-saving skills as a volunteer with the American Red Cross. One of the first lessons my instructor taught me during my training was, “When worst comes to worst, the saver comes first.” I remember being so very confused by this mnemonic device, since we, as lifesavers were risking our lives to save another human. That indeed is our pledge. The instructor went on to explain that drowning victims can be very aggressive, doing all that was necessary in their panic to save themselves, sometimes taking the lifesaver down with them.

We were taught how to avoid being lunged at during a rescue as well as defense tactics to escape a death grip when latched onto by a panicked swimmer. The lesson behind these exercises holds meaning well outside the lifesaving vignette. We simply cannot save others if we are drowning too. The best way for us to help our spouses, our children, our employers, or anyone else, is to be strong and take care of ourselves as well-prepared and well-rested warriors and formidable soldiers. We all need to chant the mantra of “when worst comes to worst, the savior comes first.” I know, however, that this is can be a very difficult concept for many women to get their heads around. Again, going back to very early societal modeling, women are taught to be caregivers, to put themselves last. I certainly would not want to scratch that beautiful female attribute. I only wish to suggest you must also be a savior to yourself. Care for yourself so you can better care for others, if caring for others is your goal. Moreover, care for yourself just because you deserve good care.