I treat my body badly. I have little respect for it and regularly confess to this.
I recently wrote about the fact that I ‘blame’ my body because it doesn’t look or act in the way I want it to. Although I no longer strive for perfection (when it comes to my body, anyway), I despair that I am so bloody far away from it!
However, in writing that post it occurred to me that I’m laying the blame in the wrong place. My body bears the brunt of the decisions made by my mad monkey mind and impacted by how I happen to be feeling that day.
I’m working with US blogger and self-acceptance guru, Karen CL Anderson at the moment. I mentioned our first session and the insights I gleaned. The ‘a-ha’ moments continue to come weekly, but for the last few weeks we’ve been talking a bit about my mind-body disconnect.
I’ve talked about why I ’emotionally eat’.
“Because I’m angry, sad etc…” I say. But then Karen asks me how my body is feeling. And I cannot tell her. Recently I had to share some ‘gifts’ or positive attributes of my body and I struggled.
However… I am reminded of a post I wrote back in February this year. A post which surprised the bejesus out of me.
It was the realisation that – if cryogenically frozen (and it is something I aspire to… long story!) I would want my ENTIRE body to come with me. Feel free to read the other post for context, but it shocked me that DESPITE I ‘diss’ this body of mine BIG TIME, I didn’t want another.
Sure I’d like my body to be less-lumpy, more muscular, (a lot) leaner, less freckled and so forth… but… it’s mine. We’ve spent 44 (LONG) years together, it and I. We know each other well. Perhaps like old friends or family we take each other for granted. Perhaps I don’t appreciate what I really have.
Perhaps I need to work on that.
Today’s post was part of a We Heart Life link up here in Oz to celebrate ‘I heart my body 2012’.