thoughtsgather

A space for my words to meander.

In Appreciation

Below is a wish for myself. It is the future of me, as I become.

I did it for me. I did it for my daughters.

I stood before the mirror. Naked. I had scars and I still have scars. Scars that can be seen by the eye and scars embedded deep within. The beauty was always there but my eyes could not always see it.

It took love and it took time. It took acceptance. It took love.

Love. Love for me. Love for my daughters.

But my weight and my rolls kept me at bay. I looked in the mirror. Naked. And I finally saw. Me. I am not my body. My conscience, my being, my soul–they are not this body. But my body is my home in this life. Its health, its strength, its vitality is paramount to feel joy, to feel pain, to be. It is the eyes through which I see, the hands through which I touch, and the mouth through which I taste. It allows me to see love, to feel love, to taste love. In that moment I looked and I looked and I looked. I looked with love, with care and with compassion. I cried. I understood. No matter size, no matter shape, no matter moment, this body carries me. This body houses me, and this body deserves me.

That was the moment it all changed. That was the moment I decided to feel love. To be love. That was the moment I first uttered these words aloud:

May I be filled with loving-kindness
May I be well
May I be peaceful and at ease
May I be happy

From that day forward, I began my mornings with those words, I ended my days with those words, and I repeated them in the moments of self doubt and in moments of pain. Slowly and surely I bathed myself in compassion, in the compassion I readily gave to others but rarely gave to myself. Things began to change.

No longer did food take mindless prominence in my life. It was integrated in a joyful and loving way. I took pride in my food and created meals with love. Gratitude and thanks were spoken before food was eaten. Farmers were acknowledged for their time and energy and my girls came to learn from where our food came.

And I ran but no longer from myself. I ran because it was love in motion. My heart beat loud in my chest. My breath strong, rhythmic, urging me forward. My legs slowly felt stronger, the jiggle dissipating. I felt strong and worthy. As I ran and as I nourished myself a strange thing happened. I realized it wasn’t about my weight. It was about my worth. I felt joy readily and I allowed myself to feel pain. And, the weight—it came off. And I walked tall and proud.

The chip bag crinkles loudly now. No longer do I shamefully sneak cookies hoping no one will notice. No longer are candy wrappers hidden in bedside table drawers. I eat them, blissfully enjoying each bite. And yes, there are still moments of weakness, moments I am not mindful, moments I am not compassionate. But I acknowledge those moments now, and I repeat to myself:

May I be filled with loving-kindness
May I be well
May I be peaceful and at ease
May I be happy

Hope Floats

I was at my office last night when I received an email from my husband–subject line: Sad evening here. I, of course, became worried and anxious. It was likely Sadie who was sad, and I wasn’t there to put her to bed, to read her a book, and to give her a cuddle.

I then read the email.

With everything else going on in our life lately Sadie’s goldfish has taken a back seat. Yes, he’s fed, but his tank has not received the attention it should. It was pretty grungy. Apparently as Sadie was going to sleep my husband heard her yell from her bedroom “Daddy! Daddy! Fishy’s not breathing! Fishy’s not breathing!” Tears were streaming down her face. Yes, it did look as though Fishy was gone. But upon closer inspection they realized there was still some fight left in the little fellow. Emergency after hours tank cleaning commenced. Fishy was still barely moving, but looked perkier then he had. Sadie was praised for realizing Fishy was in trouble, but her dad also prepared her for the fact that he may not make it. And yes, we both thought that in the morning we would finding him floating atop the fish tank and we would need to again remind her she did all she could.

At 7:00 am this morning we heard another yell from Sadie’s room. She was in bed. This yell had a different tone. “He made it! He made it! Fishy made it!” Ecstatic. That is the only word I could use to describe her tone. Ecstatic. Fishy is indeed happily swimming in circles. He appears to have made a full recovery. Sadie saved his life.

Fishy was given a second chance because of the care of a 4 year old. And now we will ensure his tank shines. Perhaps we will even drop in another tree or two.

brazen escape

a poetry blog, mostly.

A space for my words to meander.

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