I'm human. And I'm a woman. And I live in a society obsessed with attaining the unattainable when it comes to our bodies. This is a trifecta that ferments any bud of self-acceptance that is trying to blossom into the mentality of most women.
In the back of our minds we know all the magazines have been photo-shopped and retouched. But we still think it's reality and we are less than if we don't look a certain way. We all obsess over clothing sizes, flat bellies, and back fat. We agonize over out thighs fitting in to our "skinny jeans" and sigh, if not cuss out, the scale when it doesn't rest at the poundage we think we should have.
And we don't. Because we can't.
And so we obsess.
We agonize.
We compare ruthlessly, diet endlessly, negative self-talk unknowingly.
I am sick of it. I don't want to be distracted or tainted by this any more. And moreover, I do not want my daughter feeling anything less than perfect and healthy. Because she is. God help us that we continue this vicious cycle for any more generations.
I recently got hooked on this website www.thedailylove.com . Today that had a wonderful article by a guest blogger that inspired me. I hope you all take a chance to read this article: http://thedailylove.com/fall-in-love-with-your-body-now/ .
And then follow the link to this http://www.bodyheart.org/ website for an uplifting, positive body image, video montage.
Let's do this, ladies!!!!
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
forever and yesterday
My dad. It's been six months since he passed. One moment I think about him, and his life, and it seems like just yesterday since I held his hand as he passed on in to the light. Then, the next moment I think about him, and his life. and it feels like a lifetime ago. Like oil and water, these two time frames don't combine. Six months later and they still rest uneasy in my spirit. And, as it turns out, of the subsequent feelings that come along with loosing a parent don't mix either. Sadness sinks and faith rises to the top. But if you whisk it, beat it, emulsify it-it becomes somewhat cohesive. And it's called the emotions of loosing a parent: sadness, relief, pain, love, peace, un-resolve...you get the picture.
In this moment I feel like the oil. Sadness sinking, clinging to my breath, the bitterness of our relationship pulling me down. Not so much that I feel the bitterness any more, but for the loss of a father I had and for the father I needed. Again, like oil and water. What I needed and who he was did not mix well. And, for that, I am sad. Our relationship never cohesive. Separated. Did not mix well.
I have this tiny picture on my dresser, yellowed with age. It is of him and his two brothers on a beach somewhere, my grandpa walking in the background of the picture. It is pure, simple, black and white, wallet size, washed with light. I love this picture. I love how happy all three look, even though they had a very abusive childhood. It's this perplexing dichotomy of pain and joy, knowing the history of their painful childhood but seeing such joy in their smiles. I love how dapper my grandpa looks in his fedora, gazing at his children. Even though he suffered the heartache of loosing all 5 of his 6 children-my dad being the only survivor to live beyond him-the love he had in his heart for them was palpable in this picture. Today when I was dusting off my dresser and stared at this picture I thought to myself, "wow-they are all in heaven together right now, living the dream of pure happiness and joy, peace and light".
And peace came, like warm oil, atoning my spirit. Love is the emulsifier-moreover, the stabilizer-that makes love and bitterness, pain and joy, forever and yesterday, cohesive.
And so I accept this sadness, accept that time is warped when it comes to human emotion, and accept that life does not always give us what we need because sometimes that is exactly what we need. But I know that peace calms sadness, and so I search for that tonight. I catalog through my memory the good memories I had of and with my dad and let it soften the surface of my pain.
i miss you dad, and i love you very much.
In this moment I feel like the oil. Sadness sinking, clinging to my breath, the bitterness of our relationship pulling me down. Not so much that I feel the bitterness any more, but for the loss of a father I had and for the father I needed. Again, like oil and water. What I needed and who he was did not mix well. And, for that, I am sad. Our relationship never cohesive. Separated. Did not mix well.
I have this tiny picture on my dresser, yellowed with age. It is of him and his two brothers on a beach somewhere, my grandpa walking in the background of the picture. It is pure, simple, black and white, wallet size, washed with light. I love this picture. I love how happy all three look, even though they had a very abusive childhood. It's this perplexing dichotomy of pain and joy, knowing the history of their painful childhood but seeing such joy in their smiles. I love how dapper my grandpa looks in his fedora, gazing at his children. Even though he suffered the heartache of loosing all 5 of his 6 children-my dad being the only survivor to live beyond him-the love he had in his heart for them was palpable in this picture. Today when I was dusting off my dresser and stared at this picture I thought to myself, "wow-they are all in heaven together right now, living the dream of pure happiness and joy, peace and light".
And peace came, like warm oil, atoning my spirit. Love is the emulsifier-moreover, the stabilizer-that makes love and bitterness, pain and joy, forever and yesterday, cohesive.
And so I accept this sadness, accept that time is warped when it comes to human emotion, and accept that life does not always give us what we need because sometimes that is exactly what we need. But I know that peace calms sadness, and so I search for that tonight. I catalog through my memory the good memories I had of and with my dad and let it soften the surface of my pain.
i miss you dad, and i love you very much.
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