Who among us doesn’t secretly feel ashamed and less-than-ok about our bodies? Count me among that multitude. Judging our bodies in the U.S. is a national pastime and obsession. Too big, too small. Too much, too little (except maybe the fab Beth Ditto, above, though her nipples appear to have been airbrushed out).
Are we okay? Is our enough really ENOUGH?
Our rush to judge ourselves can be harsh and unforgiving.
Women have cellulite. All of them.Men have silly buttocks.Nobody looks like people in the magazines, not even models.Adults sag.Everybody on a massage table looks beautiful. There are no exceptions to this rule.I’ll tell you what people look like, really: they look like flames. Or the stars, on a clear night in the wilderness.
At that first long sigh, at that first thought that “I can stop hanging on now, I’m safe” – a luminosity, a glow, begins. Within a few minutes the whole body is radiant with it. It suffuses the room: it suffuses the massage therapist too…