Self-help books get you down
Never have I felt quite so
inadequate as I did this weekend
standing in front of the self-help
section at the bookstore.
Twelve hundred titles — and
that number more than triples when
you include the thousands more in
the psychology, sexuality, addiction,
fitness and diet sections aimed at
fixing, firming, reducing, relieving
and revitalizing my hips, hor
mones, cognitive processes and
self-esteem.
Oh, the scourge, the humiliation
of never being enough, never being
“whole.”
It was a moment of truth.
I could continue down the path
of the self-help junkie, or I could
accept my imperfections and get on
with my life.
I decided to bail out. To revel in
my defects, to celebrate my short
comings. To say to myself, as
Barbara Graham recommends in
her book “Women Who Run With
The Poodles,” “It’s OK to be
partial. Say it loud, I’m partial and
proud.”
The last self-help book I pur
chased sits accusingly by my
bedside, daring me to open it.
Last winter I had — or so I
thought — the primal feminine
urge to run with the pack. So I went
out and purchased Clarissa Pinkola
Estes’ best-selling tome, “Women
Who Run With The Wolves.”
The book jacket told me that by
reading the book, I would become
enlightened and empowered, filled
with insight, wisdom and love.
Pinkola told me to get in touch with
my instinctual self, to take risks, to
be the wild and free woman I was
meant to be. “The shadow of the
wild woman is lurking behind us,”
she asserts.
If we call her, she will come.
But where is she? The only wild
women I ever see are rabidly
pushing shopping carts through
Besides, whenever I close my eyes
and try to get in touch with my
true nature, I either fall asleep or
start fantasizing about Rice Krispie
bars.
Super Saver on Saturday mornings.
So I tried to align myself with
my inner wolflike being.
After all, wimmin, wymmon and
women alike were reading the
book. Letting their hair down,
howling their primal longings and
reclaiming their instinctual selves.
Trying to keep up with Iron John
and Jack Nicholson.
I confess; I never made it past
the introduction.
After all, my idea of risk-taking
is eating at a restaurant with a low
rating from the health department
or walking across open metal
gratings on downtown sidewalks.
And if I were truly an instinctual
being, I would have won the lottery
by now.
Besides, whenever I close my
eyes and try to get in touch with my
true nature, I cither fall asleep or
start fantasizing about Rice Krispie
bars.
And the closest I come to
running with my wolfish sisters are
the four months every winter when
I discard my Lady Gillette. Ahh,
the freedom of leg hair.
Anyway, most of the women I
see aren't running with wolves —
they’re running away from them.
Women who run with wolves?
Women who run with poodles?
What self-respecting, self-discov
ered, self-confident, self-satisfied
woman would read this stuff?
The same ones who buy.
“Women and Self-Esteem,” “Be
Your Own Best Friend” (what, and
take yourself out to lunch?),
“Women and Fatigue: Life Chang
ing Help for Your Personal Energy
Crisis” (Please. Does this rate a
book? Just tell Homer to get his fat
behind off the couch and fix dinner)
and “The Women’s Comfort Book”
(I expected that one to be filled
with M&M’s and coupons for
Baskin Robbins ice cream).
I propose an alternative. My new
book, “Woman Who Jogs With a
Limp — Bad Knees From Too
Much Time Spent Scrubbing
Floors.”
It would be filled with
affirmations such as: “I thrive and
prosper on five hours of sleep a
night” and “I am a complete
woman — I can pick up dirty
laundiy with my toes while carry
ing two bags of groceries, nursing a
baby, reading to a preschooler and
contracting glutius maximus.”
Women would be encouraged to
express their rage (which they have
just rediscovered in the above
affirmations) by torching their
kitchens and shredding photos of
Dan Quayle, Pat Robertson and
John Wayne Bobbitt.
No howling allowed.
I think it could work.
Lange-Kubkk Is a senior news-editorial
and sociology major and a Dally Nebraskan
columnist
Pakistan’s diversity lives on
I didn’t pay any attention to it.
Like most of us, 1 took my national
ity for granted, not knowing it
played an important role in my life.
It always did; I just never
realized it. Not until I came to the
United States did I understand the
importance, integrity and actual
connotation of “nationality.”
America is a mother nation to a
lot of countries and is a continent
by itself. Everyone knows and
dreams about coming here. The sad
thing is, most Americans are
unaware of the world outside their
“global America."
This column is not just basic
information to the Americans about
Pakistan but also an awakening to
those Pakistanis who have fotgotten
their culture and identity while
trying to blend into the Western
fabric.
Ancient but modem. Pakistan, a
young nation forged in the crucible
of one of the world’s oldest civiliza
tions, lies east of Iran and Afghani
stan and west of India. The moun
tain peak K-2 lies in the north, and
the waves from the Arabian Sea
crash on Pakistan’s southern
shores.
Although this newly bom
country emerged on Aug. 14, 1947,
the Hindu Kush mountains fun
neled waves of colonizers from
Central and Western Asia for
thousands of years.
Vicissitudes of history and
variations of geography on the
Indian subcontinent have created an
intricately patterned cultural fabric,
woven but also rent along strands of
language, religion and culture.
Over the millennia, newcomers by
land or sea have added to the fabric
design; Aryans, Arabs, Turks,
Afghans, Moguls and Britishers,
among others. People of this
distinctive world snow and defy
generalization.
“The Islamic Republic of
Pakistan” is the official name of
Pakistan, and the majority of the
population is Muslim.
America is a mother nation to a lot
of countries and is a continent by
itself Everyone knows and dreams
about coming here. The sad thing
is, most Americans are unaware of
the world outside their “global
America.**
The national language is Urdu,
which used to be called the lan
guage of a caravan, as this area was
ruled by people from different
origins. Urdu is a combination of
many languages, such as Arabic,
Persian, Hindu and even English.
Pakistan is divided into four
different provinces: the Sindh, the
Punjab, the Northwest Frontier
Province and the Baluchistan.
Amazingly, all four provinces differ
from each other in all walks of life.
Different languages are spoken in
each of the provinces.
Even the foods, the clothing and
the cultural settings in these
regions are different. The differ
ences stem from the early settlers,
who all had different cultural
ori ' i.
Sindh is the home of the
great Sufis and Saints. It is located
in southern Pakistan. The endless
sands of the Thar desert line the
east, the barren Kirthar Mountains
lie to the west, and the Arabian Sea
lies to the south. Pakistan’s largest
city, Karachi, which shelters about
7 million people, is in the Sindh.
The home of the farmers and the
land of five rivers, the Punjab, lies
above the Sindh. The five rivers are
tributaries of the Indus and have
played their part in converting
Punjab into the richest and most
fertile province of Pakistan.
Islamabad, the capital of Pakistan,
is in this province.
Baluchistan is Pakistan’s biggest
province, yet it has the smallest
population. The dry land comprises
plateaus and plains, and only the
Baluchis people can stand the
severe dry climate and the rocky
barren mountains. To the west of
Baluchistan lies Afghanistan; the
sturdy Baluchis are the descendents
of the Persian Afghans.
The Northwest Frontier Prov
ince, commonly called Sarhad, is
made up of mountains and lush
green valleys. The majority of the
people who live in the frontier
belong to the Pathan group of tribes
— the world’s largest tribal society.
Pathans are known for their
ho; and are brave warriors.
irist, one will find a
mosaic of resolute and time-tested
cultures woven together by the pure
faith of Islam. These cultures are
expressed in the beautiful mosques,
sculptures, tapestries, literature and
paintings. Likewise, the beautiful
handicrafts of the people bear
witness to their adroit skills
garnered over the centuries.
Underlying all this are magnifi
cent vistas of a land of mountains
and plains, fields and orchards,
farmlands and sweeping river
valleys.
In the north lie the Karakoram
and Hindu Kush mountain ranges
and, of course, the well-known peak
K-2. The mighty river Indus
terminates in the south, in a delta
that gave birth and vigor to what is
perhaps the world's earliest
civilization.
Bashir la ■ Major food science mnjor mmI
■ Dally Nebraskan columnist
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