Saturday, June 4, 2011

Ending the War

Wow.  I just tried on my favorite shorts from last summer, assuming I would want to bring them with me on my trip to NYC and Maryland (where temperatures have been well above the high of 68 we've hit in here in the PNW), and guess what?  They don't fit me anymore.  Okay.   How about those capris I had to stop wearing because they were falling off of me?  I dig them out of the the "give" pile. They don't fit either.


That's all, really.  How challenging it can be to love and be kind to yourself when you do not fit the mold society has mapped out ( and you have internalized) about what is acceptable.  I am going to the land of shopping, for Pete's sake-- but shopping for clothes at my current weight is primarily a lesson in humiliation.  It ain't fun, and it often is not fruitful either.

I called one of my sisters-- as  a fellow Gordon Girl I knew she would feel my pain.  As I told her, I will be fine, I have clothes that still fit, and after all, I am the girl who had to wear her father's UGGs to the wedding of the century last November in Seattle.  (Long story, for which you kinda had to be there.)  But if I can do that, and get over myself and have a good time, I can do anything!

My point is that there are challenges to being kind to ourselves.  And often we are so accustomed to the particular ways in which we hate ourselves (and the judgements we hold that tell us it is only proper and right to do so) that we do not even notice that we are ones wielding the sharp knives with our very own hands.

Remember John Lennon? ( I always think of him when I head to NYC.)
War is over, 
If you want it.
And the story from Stephen Levine's Healing Into Life and Death about the man who wanted to study at a Zen monastery in Japan around the outbreak of WWII?  He is closely questioned:  Why do you want to come to our country now?  His answer:  Making a cup of tea, I end the war.  They let him in.

Stephen Levine was approached by a man in a wheelchair after he told that story in a lecture.  The man was frail but glowing.  He had a huge smile.  He said:  Dying of cancer, I end the war.  

Here's what I think:  The war is where-ever you find it.  Where-ever separation and hatred spring up.  So I say unto you:  Wearing my fat pants, I end the war.



1 comment:

  1. God, girl, I love you. I love your sense of self and humor.