More Than Anatomy

How many women have body image issues?  How often do we scan our bodies in the mirror and magnify every “imperfection?”  I wish this was bigger, this was smaller, this was tighter, this was a different color (hello bogus red stretch marks)!  As a little girl, I was always chubby, nah-I was obese.  I am still considered obese in clinical terms, I am sure.  However, there are days when I feel like each and every part of my body is a celebration.  In these trying times, having our health is an actual luxury.  There is an awareness of each part that does what it was made to do.  Legs that can walk me to work.  Arms that can hug my children.  A womb that has carried life, as well as lost it.  My body has endured sexual trauma, car accidents, bumps and scrapes, illnesses and two surgeries.  I admit that I have betrayed my own body with what I have allowed to take over my space.  Self sabotage comes in many forms.  Toxic connections I have confused as love or intimacy that left me defiled.  Anger I have allowed to make a home inside of me and explode in violence.  I owed my body more honor than disgrace.  Allowing it to marinate in self hate, even if mildly, conforms destruction from the inside out.  Feeding myself poison rather than fueling with nutrition.  Yet, on other occasions, I have loved my body and made it my greatest project, filling it with greens and carving muscles with exercise.  There is a constant tension with what I wish I could change and what I have accepted as all mine.  After 42 years of connection, you begin to embrace what you are and what you aren’t, in all ways, especially the cavity you move in.

A good friend of mine is planning a celebration of… the removal of her uterus.  A farewell party, if you will.  Yes.  It is been the source of great joy and life bearing as well as the source of excruciating pain.  She has decided it is time, to part ways with this sacred organ.  She is eager and grateful because their journey has been everything transformative that has, however, run its course.  I imagine that our bodies carry more than just blood and guts-they carry soul ties to experiences that have molded our hearts.   

My wise Titi (Aunt) told me that we must have connection with our bodies, in more than the physical.  We must become aware of the soul work we place in them, it’s not just a physical effort, it is an entire experience of movement worth embracing.  We cannot detach ourselves from these vital temples.  They are more than a shell, worthy of delightful care.

The truth is our bodies deteriorate by the minute, and replenish, too.  Each step is “mileage” placed.  Cells die and others are born.  Is that too scientific?  It shouldn’t be.  Our bodies are vehicles of love, service, pain, dance and ecstasy.  Each part created with intention.  Driven to carry out purpose.  They are worthy of our celebration, care and farewell.