They keep telling me to love my body. They make it sound so easy. And there were times when I did. There were times I would see the curve of my hip and smile. Or see my own eyes light up and feel the joy in that. There were times…
I kept hearing I should love my body. As if my body is me. I would hear that I should embrace what I’ve got and strut my stuff without apology. I would hear that. Sometimes, I would do that. And it would feel good for a while….if only for a while.
And then I thought what if I accepted my body? What if I appreciated it for the vehicle that it is? For it is: the medium that carries my spirit. And then, what if I worked on loving me? All of me? What if I looked guilt and shame straight in the eye and saw them for the charlatans they are?
Because somehow I know my body is not me. Somehow I sense that I am bigger than it. And so as I look within and see all that has brought me to this point, I know what is needed. This is a call for love. This is a time for healing. And as the negative emotions are revealed, I wear less of them.
I focus on the light within me. I bring all that appears to be dark to this light. I breathe. I meditate. I pray. The light inside appears to grow. There is a shift. I move more. I eat less. There is a deep love that is cultivated and takes over. My compulsions have less power. The flesh that no longer serves can be shed, or not.
So when I hear I should love my body, I smile. For I do, but this is a result of loving my true self. And the more I recognize that I am NOT my body, the more I appreciate what my body does. It is wholly neutral, a vessel. And as a direct result of loving who I am, my perception of my body catches up. It reflects the peace within and shows up with a smile.
Love is funny like that. It transforms & transcends all in its wake. And I love that.