This is it, children: I don't forbid much, but I refuse to allow you to believe your smile is anything less than a reflection of all the beauty, all the joy, all the awesomeness (and I DO mean AWE-someness) of the world. When your small eyes (like mine) wash away in the curve of wrinkles and joy you are nothing short of the best you I could imagine and I've imagined SO many yous over the years. The answer to the your body is this: It's not a problem, not an enemy to handle, not misshapen or wrong - but one of the best tools you have to worship the world in bare feet up to the knees splashing in the mud, in working the earth, in walking or jogging or jumping. In smiling.
You know how I love ritual and worship - so let's do this. Let's make our bodies a worship of the world. Practice the ritual of seeing the good in them each morning. This isn't an enemy to be broken but a thing to be honored in every way.
In silence
In the music of physical movement
In recognizing its boundaries and limits
In pushing them (scraped knees ARE an essential worship of this body)
In taking in what's good (food? ideas? emotions?) and being willing to let go of what's not
Because I love you, I will stop stopping in front of the mirror or commenting on my weight after I eat chicken wings or whining about yard work or sitting rather than walking or frowning at myself on the scale or any of it.
Because I love you, I will love me. I will love me like you love me if you promise to love you like I love you.
If we do that, this body image problem isn't a problem at all.
Hallelujah.
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