Body as Passage
My body has journeyed from teen cheerleader fit, a form built for sprints, balanced enough for capoeira, flexible enough for yoga, and steady enough for long hikes through forested trails.
Through much of that time, my body moved from “fit” to “obese” in the eyes of others. Few people saw my ability. Most saw my inability to fit their narrow definition of what an able body should look like.
It was painful to be called names that revealed their discomfort with what they saw. More painful still was their inability to see my hurt, to recognize my sadness, to feel compelled to care about the way, the why, and most importantly, me.
With each encounter, patterns emerged.
The first: happy people do not diminish others.
The second: weight, my weight, carries many components. Genetics among them, often ignored.
The third: gratitude. Gratitude for a body that carried me through Quebec City streets, across snow in northern Minnesota, onto a rocky boat in the Florida Keys, through desert landscapes in Nevada, and up the steep hills of San Francisco.
My body may not have appeased others. But it has delivered me to awe, to experience, to memory. It has been my passageway to beauty.
So I offer this mantra for anyone who feels diminished by how they or others perceive their body:
May I love and appreciate my body.
May I tend to my body with honor.
May I love my body unconditionally.
Until the next bloom, may you be well.
