Don't Be A Boob

Breasts, boobs, under shoulder boulders, fun bags, pillows, jugs, air bags, headlights. These euphemisms, many of which show a concerning misunderstanding of their functions, can be considered at best humourous at worst and insulting at worst.

Biologically they are for feeding newly born children, a function that helps classify the entire species as mammals. During breastfeeding a mother passes on essential nutrients to their child as well as hormones and the basic building blocks for developing early immune systems. Once a woman’s child rearing days are past the breasts are, crudely put, there for decoration.

Many people would argue that breasts are primarily there for decoration and that feeding is merely an unfortunate distraction, which may in fact lower their decorative “value” saying nothing of lowering their position in reference to their proximity to the navel.

Breasts are comprised of mainly fatty and fibrous tissues. The young the breast the ratio favours the fibrous elements, as the breasts age (along with the rest of its owners body) the ration changes towards the fatty tissue.

More fatty and less fibrous tissues can only mean one thing – gravity wins and the distance between the nipple and waistline decreases. A fact that can be to the larger breasted woman’s advantage as it may halve their underwear requirements  - when the breasts can be tucked into their underpants. Their partners may also appreciate this because bras are really expensive and as people age and try to survive on pensions or superannuation this can be a huge saving.

Don’t get me wrong breasts have other great benefits for all that get to encounter them – amorous, consensual, passionate contact can be fun for the giver and receiver alike.

Breasts are not always fun or functional. Breasts have an unfortunate habit of getting sick. Lumps, bumps, discharges, shape changes. 90% of these are inconvenient, they might be uncomfortable and embarrassing and scary for a short period of time. They might be easily treated or medical personnel might even choses to ignore them and implore their owner to do the same. That leaves 10%, which are serious. Medical conditions that scare men and women alike.

This is saying nothing of the backache for larger women and the years of torment at school during the puberty years. Whether they grow first or last in the girls class, the biggest, smallest or they are growing unevenly girls will get teased by the boys and girls in their class.

Experts suggest regular checking of the breasts, by looking and feeling them to see if there have been any changes. This can be difficult for some women, or even embarrassing. I say let your partner do it and have some fun together. After all it is on doctors orders!

Doctors suggest that women need to know what is normal for their breasts (and each breast will probably be different in one way or another) throughout their menstrual cycle.  That means being felt up on a regular basis.

Occasionally the illnesses are so bad that women need to have part or all of their breasts removed to say their lives. This can affect their sense of womanhood.

Firstly their curves, whether big or small, are changed forever and there is no denying it the world judges women by their shape. This can be relatively easily concealed when dressed but requires radical cosmetic surgery to disguise when naked.  This is a fact that is confronting to the woman herself and partner alike.

Men, who can also be judged on size have not concerns when dressed  - unless wearing a speedo – but there is no hiding endowment when naked. Men’s bits are designed to remain functional for their entire life and the loss of function can affect a man’s sense of manhood, but this is a topic for another blog.

Whether the woman is a police officer, politician, teacher, surgeon, construction worker, engineer, mother, daughter, sister, wife they have a lot more important assets that those hidden under a blouse.

What a pity that all of those women who undergo breast augmentation surgery to increase their cup size to ridiculous sizes do not realize this.

The Downward Dog is Up

I attended my first ever yoga class, and it was harder than expected. My main difficulty was with the breathing. Whenever the instructor told my to breath in my lungs wanted to breath out, and vice versa. It was always back to front. The instructors breathing instructions were also extremely slow. Was I meant to hold my breathe that long and risk passing out in front of a class of people I did not know? (My location was conveniently at the front of the class so I could easily see the instructor and the class could see me). Was I meant to have multiple breathes timed perfectly with when the instructor would randomly voice the next direction?

By the time I had got my breathing back in sync with one exercise another one had started and the challenge of timed inhaling/exhaling would begin all over again.

As part of the warm up/relaxation there was an emphasis on breathing deeply…concentrating the breathe into different spaces. Maybe I was misinformed during secondary school biology and numerous first aid resuscitation courses but I thought that air could go into one of two places – the lungs or the stomach (ok 3 spaces if you want to count each lung separately). We started by breathing into the stomach. Easy. Then into the lungs. Fine. The problems started when the instructor wanted to isolate different areas of the lungs (and not left then right). First it was the bottom of the lungs – the area closest to the stomach.  Then the top of the lungs followed by the back (towards the spine) and the front of the lungs. Lungs are like a balloon that just fill with area...in all areas…and just expand as they become more filled. There is no segmenting off the balloon, except for those used for balloon animals. My lungs are not a lycra giraffe, and I am pleased to say that after this yoga experience they still aren’t.

I also found some of the exercises intuitively back to front, for example the downward dog. There is nothing “down” about it. Arses are pointed well and truly up. To be honest there was nothing war-like about the warrior pose either.

The dress code was comfortable, non-restricting clothes. No-one mentioned the removal of shoes and socks! This does however go a long way to explain the incense. The challenge in choosing the most appropriate clothing is difficult. Loose is good but too loose can be visually awkward for the rest of the class. Actually, tight stretchy clothing can be equally off putting for fellow yogis*. In all fairness there is no clothing ever made that will make poses like the “king pigeon”, “cow”, “cobra” or the “camel” flattering for anyone. I am not going to even get started with the “wide-legged forward bend.

I am pleased to say that I had the strength, balance and control to complete all of the poses albeit with not the same fluidity or flexibility of the instructor.

The class ended with the ringing of the bowl/bell. At this stage our eyes were closed as instructed, the windows had been closed having finally aired the room of the mixed aroma of feet and incense and then suddenly a bell, it was like being woken up by a door bell. It is not relaxing at all. Instead it instills a slight sense of panic. What am I wearing, do I have bed head, did I drawl while sleeping and if so is it now drying on my chin? And yes these thoughts did all pass fleetingly through my mind.  Thankfully the instructor did not ask if I wanted to change my electricity provider or to join her religion.

Now I am off to see if I can create a downward dog with my lungs, ready for the next class.

*The instructor, with all of her innocent enthusiasm somewhat patronizingly called all of the attendees in the class “yogis” Did that make her Boo Boo or Park Ranger Smith? Either way I was disappointed that there was not picnic basket.