One recent winter night I went to my backyard naked to put my feet and hands on Earth and wrap myself around a grand oak tree whose roots reach deep into earth and whose branches touch the sky.
Of course, of course, it's a totally insane thing for a 61 year old to do and frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. You will either understand the reasons I did so without explanation, or you will not understand. Makes me no nevah mind.
And I guess that's the point. It may be my age. It may be the BBD (big bad diagnoses), or perhaps I've just always been bit quirky. I mean, this certainly isn't the first time I've done this sort of thing. It's just that now, I really don't care whom I tell about it. It was a lovely thing.
A friend of mine, who has had a mastectomy and wears a breast prosthesis, recently related a really funny story about guys smiling at her in the grocery. Only later she realized that her "breast" had flipped out. She spoke about how guys finds ANY breasts intriguing. I couldn't agree more. Not only with her perception of men and breasts, but with her openness about sharing the story. After all, it's just a breast. And in this case, a fake one. Men will always be a source of laughter for us if we let them.
In the summer, should it please the Universe, my daughter and I will visit Scotland. While there I will participate in an art project involving photographs of naked women over 50. Well, I'm over 50, and under my jimmies, I'm naked, so I reckon I qualify. The goal will not be make us look like we're 30, but to proudly show our years.
I'm recently coming to love this body. I'm sorry that I didn't appreciate it my whole life. There were a couple of times in my adult life when my 5'8" frame sported 97 pounds. Not 96. Not 98. Had to be 97. OY! I have a whole lot more pounds than that now and fewer inches in height. I don't bother to weigh. What difference would it make? I'm round. I'm soft. It's not bad. One would think, however, that having had so many bits removed would have made me smaller. Biology and physics haven't a very close friendship, it seems.
My big brown eyes are still there, though contacts are no longer an option, so they are behind some funky lenses. Eye lids, like the rest of me, have succumbed to that ol' gravity thang. But trust me, the actual eyes are still in there, and they are still beautiful.
Once I had legs up to here. Now they serve to get me from here to there and for that I'm extremely grateful. I'm no longer interested in depreciating my body. It's served me very well. Whew! The stories we could tell.
As far as my actions and beliefs go. I'm no longer interested in proving that my way is the right way. I am, I think, right for me, now.
Let's all forget who's watching and just dance. Whatcha say?
No comments:
Post a Comment