Perfect Teeth Could Have Been Yours, Cary Grant!

The other week, my husband and I watched an old Cary Grant movie.  Remember him?  He was that famous actor whom everyone loved.  While watching the movie, though, I just couldn't get over his teeth.  They were so crooked and so distracting.  I thought to myself, "How could that guy ever live with those teeth?"  And then I thought that someone with those kind of teeth would never make it in Hollywood today.  He'd be laughed out of the studio -- and admonished to go get new teeth.  And this was Cary Grant, of all people -- the guy my parents' and their parents' generations loved and admired.  

I'm not suggesting that nobody should ever straighten his teeth today. I can understand wanting straight teeth.  Crooked teeth can be distracting, after all, especially when one is on a giant TV in another person's living room.  

But, on the other hand, haven't we gotten just a bit obsessive about our bodies in the intervening years?  So, what's our deal with obsessively seeking perfection?  And what is our deal with defining perfection as fat-free; bulging muscle; skin-tight skin?  What's wrong with a little fat to get us through the tough times?  Why do we insist on holding up a standard that nobody can reach without community-breaking, antisocial behaviors ("I could never touch your pie; I don't eat sugar, but I'll sit here judging you while you eat a slice", or "Eeek!  I hope you're not serving bread.  I only eat lettuce with an occasional sprinkling of organic mushrooms or avocado, softened just so",  or "My diet is so specialized that I can only eat it at home, alone, away from other people who are making wrong food choices.")  I tremble in fear when I think about having a variety of folks over for a meal.  In fact, I generally skip it (sorry, folks).

Why does our food life have to be so rigid and non-fun-loving?  A friend recently told me she was eliminating sugar from the family's diet.  I smiled and nodded.  Each to her own, of course, and who am I to judge?  I thought about mentioning that sugar was a regular staple at our house, but I decided against it, in the name of good form and friendly relations.  I looked at her adorable little boy with his adorable handsome eyes and wondered what it must be like to live such an austere life at such a young age.  Of course, I'm sure he's having a lovely childhood.  

Everywhere I go, though, I'm bombarded with the same old new-for-the-modern-day messages: "eat clean!" "eliminate gmos!" "eat natural!" "drink water only!" "increase your protein!" "know that sugar is evil and comes in many sinister forms!"  

If only we pursued God and shunned evil with such intensity and focus.  

Someone recently pointed out to me that our bodies are meant to be used -- to the point of being used up at the end.  Okay, kind of gross, but with a point, I think.  

The point is, for what ARE we preserving our bodies?  Why do we feel guilt when we eat an ice cream cone with our kids (or after-kid-hours) or when we eat a brownie or two?  What's that about?  Whom are we trying to please, and what is the point of it all?  Are we really going to lie on our death beds and be grateful we ate just veggies and drank just water all our long, dull dreary days?  My body is not going anywhere for the long term, so, unless I believe that I can overcome death by eating protein, spinach, kale and lots of supplements (I don't), what am I doing it for?  

Now, I'm not advocating gluttony either.  But the intense focus on food and body perfection seems to be a type of idolatry of food and of own's own body.   I don't remember God issuing dietary rules to all of us.  In fact, I distinctly remember something about not imposing food rules on those around you and of breaking bread with friends.

I do struggle with whether to get with the program and seek physical perfection (don't laugh).  There is a lot of peer pressure out there, even for us mom-folk. But I have decided instead to embrace moderation and to live my life in all other areas -- no, not to get too crazy and snack all day and load up on panfuls of brownies, and yes, to be mindful and get in my daily exercise daily and all that -- but, more importantly, to embrace my children, my family, my friends, my community and to focus on them rather than on myself and a culturally-defined, elusive physical perfection.