I almost had to trick myself into writing this meditation. It has to be done. Last December, on a weekend vacation with the family, there was an indoor pool at the hotel. Swimming sounded grand, but a bathing suit sounded ridiculous. These thighs? This postpartum belly? Quickly I slipped into self-abusive thoughts that are only affirmed by the media’s portrayal of what is beautiful.
Hold the phone. I know what is beautiful. A nursing babe, having the nourishment to provide her well. That in itself is a blessing. With a child’s head in my lap as I stroke his/her beautiful hair, I’ve been told my legs are soft and make good pillows. My husband love my curves and luscious lips, and he loves gazing into my eyes. I’ve been told I have a beautiful smile, which I know is contagious — airborne it even spreads to strangers.
What my body needs is appreciation. I take all of what I have for granted, to feel beautiful is easy if we can remember what a blessing it is to have food and drink and full capacity of the body we have, even if it’s not traditional — whatever that means! Who wants to be stereotypical? I like my soft legs; I just don’t want to have a queen size pillow there.
My body needs a healthy diet and exercise as a token of my appreciation. I know I would be rewarded in many ways. Toned, energetic, vibrant. Why is it so much more easily said than done? I know what is good for me and what’s not. One key is support. I don’t need a cohort in crime. Many of my lady friends agree with me, or understand even, the chocolate passion. What I have to seek out is someone who will help me savor and enjoy moderation.
I don’t want a diet and a regime. I’ll avoid those like the plague. I want a heart-feeding feast, a soul-quenching menu that will indeed include a monthly truffle. I’ll find an expressive, meditative activity that will boost and release energy, awakening my slumbering muscles.
I would have put on my suit and gone swimming, if I had had the courage to pack it. I am beautiful. There’s just more beauty there to be tapped. Nothing a little attention and persistence can’t fix.