Vessel

     It's rare that my scatter brained, passionate psyche focuses on anything specific for long.  I have trouble articulating my opinions on politics and religion in serious discussions because my views are lofty... all encompassing... admittedly far from practical.  I try to summarize my mind by repeating "I don't care about money" and "people are inherently good"... but get lost in frustration based on my inability to wrap my bleeding heart around specific talking points... I speculate I just can't bring myself to believe that the human world can be calculated... it's too colorful, too emotional, and far too surprising...and my brain explodes into a vibrant kaleidoscope of thoughts and songs and poems and pictures whenever I try to reach for the tiniest topic.
     However, the past few months I have been harboring a tangible sadness for something quite specific... and I'm grasping and clinging for this sign of temporary clarity.  Whenever articulated fervency strikes I choose to absorb it as a sign of providence, perhaps a lengthy psychological obsession means I have found one of my soul's please.

     80% of United States women claim they "do not like the way they look"

      This may seem superfluous or vain, a far cry from my usual dream of cultural revolution; but self acceptance and learned appreciation for the divine mystery of life are dependent upon one another.  As long as humanity continues to define itself by external stories, we will be forever asleep.  How can we accept each other and learn to cherish the differences that make life on earth so amazing... how can we understand that we depend on each other.. when our culture so rampantly encourages the belief that our bodies, the amazing vehicles that allow our souls the very gift of life, are insufficient?

     So from the deepest parts of me I plead: Women... it's time we stop hating our bodies.

     I've never been one for intentional exercise or purposeful dieting.  I like to ride my bike, do yoga, swim, and play outside but even the thought of running on a treadmill makes me experience phantom side pains.  I've always loved vegetables and simple foods, but I also eat approximately a pint of ice cream a night.  I smoke cigarettes occasionally.  I'm far from the peak of fitness... I get winded running from my car to the front door.  Hence... I don't mean "love your body" in the way society preaches... implying the conscious betterment of our transcendent souls' physical shells.  I mean banish self hatred and fall in love with your body... now.

     I am genuinely heartbroken by the realization of Western society's decision to weave learned dissatisfaction with the female body into our cultural story.  I'm tall and thin and have wiry limbs, never one to struggle with weight or intense body image issues.. but even I... if standing in front of a mirror... choose things about my body to be unhappy with.  Be it my thighs or my skin or my flipper like feet... I catch myself teaching the whispered lessons of society to my reflection.  It's almost an obligation.  I have NEVER had a female friend who is comfortable with every part of her body.  Heart wrenching.

     Fitness magazines, diet plans, low fat alternatives, skinny lattes, SO MANY CHOICES OF FACE WASH, trendy exercise classes, fat girls, skinny girls, cleavage, hair extensions, Pinterest boards for "body envy"... echoing the same tired sentiment over and over, louder and louder... "You as you are, mo matter who you are, no matter how much you weigh, no matter how beautiful you may be... you can be better.  You must be better.  The way you look now should be improved upon.  It's honorable to never be content with your image.  Your body is a temple.. so bettering it is noble work."

     I propose this notion instead: Let's love our "temples" as they are.  Now. Not in the future when wer're skinnier or "healthier".

     If we're honest with ourselves... our obsession with fitness boils down to loving ourselves... just "not the way I look right now."

     As for me I'm done hating the female body.  I'm done with thinking I'm less than ambitious for not seeking to make my physical self "stronger".  I'm happy enough with my ice cream, thank you.  Let's stop thinking women who completely love their bodies are conceited.  Let's stop being uncomfortable with the notion that we're allowed to love ourselves.  Our bodies are miracles... capable of producing life and taking us on adventures all around the world.  We swim, dance, laugh, and make beautiful stories in these beautiful bodies.  I'm all for healthy living, but healthy living starts not with diet changes and working out... but with looking in the mirror and deciding to love your body as it is in this moment... in all its flabby, bony, bumpy glory.

     Challenge yourself to never criticize another woman's body.  The female body is a sacred and sexy miracle... and it's time we stop buying in to the lies that inspire us to do anything less than cherish every inch of ourselves.