Wednesday, June 18, 2014


As so often happens for me, something has crept into my awareness due to repeated exposure over a short period of time. This something is poking at me and begging me to pay attention, to give it some time and thought.

Lately, over and over I hear the beloved and beautiful people in my life expressing dissatisfaction with their bodies. This dissatisfaction is nearly always about weight. I am most surprised that even women I consider to be quite thin wish they were thinner. The painful piece of this for me is learning that the people I love and KNOW to be beautiful are not feeling beautiful.

And then I found myself in those shoes, saying the very thing that had been driving me wild. I expressed frustration that despite my best efforts at developing good habits, my body is curvier than I would like it to be. My friend was surprised. She didn't know I felt that way.

I think there is something really sweet there in all of that. I see all the people I love as beautiful. And the people who love me, see me as beautiful too. I suspect that very little of that has anything to do with appearance, and nothing to do with weight. It is really about who we are and how we treat people. It is really love that makes us beautiful.

I think if we can all feel as beautiful as our loved ones know we are, it will be life-changing.


  1. Here's one for you, Beautiful.

    It seems we must be stripped
    of the skin
    of all we think beautiful
    before we open to the kind of beauty
    that can't go away.
    It seems sky must pour
    and howl like it will never stop
    before we notice the smile
    of our own forever sun. It seems
    we must hunt with starving
    hungry eyes before we know
    this belly is and has always been
    full. It seems this wall
    deep in the center must be hammered down
    before we let soft, breathing hands
    curl in around us. Each drop
    of dark carries
    with it a candle of holy
    light—with each miracle breath
    we are invited to turn toward
    the nearest whispering spark
    and, like momma bird sheltering her baby—like a pebble
    in stream's safe lap—

    "What I've Learned from the Dark" by Julia Fehrenbacher.

    1. Thank you, Sheila! That is lovely!