If my thighs were smooth and strong and youthful, I'd be happy. If my body were thin and light, I'd be happy. If my face were wrinkle-free, I'd be happy. If the scale read XXX in pounds or XX in kilos, I'd be happy. If my upper arms weren't sagging, I'd be happy. If my right hamstring hadn't gotten injured, I'd be happy.
I could go on.
We've all done this.
Our argument with reality, especially in the form of this body. It's wrong, it's ugly, it's bad, it's disgusting, it's horrible.
Is it true, my perception of this nasty, gross, painful, wrong body?
Yes. Just look at it. Don't you agree? Look at this magazine photo...and did you hear what she said, he said, they said? Did you see that person running, jumping, playing?
It's true this body is wrong.
But are you absolutely sure? Do you know you're right?
Um. No.
(Argue with reality and you lose, but only 100% of the time ~ Byron Katie).
How do you react when you believe this thought that your body is too ugly? Or not working? What happens when you think your thighs are too bumpy and old?
Sigh. I feel depressed. I have visions of everything going to hell in a hand basket in the future. I see myself lying on my death bed.
I feel ugly, right now, when I believe the thought my body is wrong. I feel the argument, in this present moment. I hide in my house. I'm sad. I cover up. I don't participate.
I eat.
Who would you be without this thought that the body is wrong....whatever quality you're thinking is "bad"?
Woah.
But.
I've thought this though since I was 8. (Ahem, Are you sure you've thought it every moment of every hour since you were eight? No.)
Just see for a moment, what it would be like if you had the mindset of a flower. Here I am, being myself, in this color, shape, size, glory, expression. I am this right now.
Byron Katie does a comedic sketch in her work quite often, where she turns to the flowers almost always sitting next to her on a small table, and pulls one of them out of the vase.
She then begins to speak to it, as if it's ugly and wrong.
'You're too big. Look at the other flowers. They are so much smaller. What's wrong with you? You're too old. You're unacceptable. Open yourself. Change. Shrink!!'
It would be absurd to yell at a flower, or a tree or a plant in the natural world (our bodies are a part of the natural world) and demand it change immediately.
Yet we do it with these bodies.
Turning our thoughts around:
If my thoughts about my body and life were smooth and strong and youthful, I'd be happy. If my thoughts about my body and life were thin and light, I'd be happy. If my thoughts about my body and life were wrinkle-free, I'd be happy. If the scale read XXX in pounds or XX in kilos, I would NOT be happy. If my thinking weren't sagging about my arms, I'd be happy. If my thinking/ego/identify hadn't gotten injured, I'd be happy.
What if I could experience peace and happiness right now? I could sit still, relax, rest, question my thinking. Notice the brilliance of what is, without being a dictator about it.
Have you changed at a fundamental level more often when you've forced, cajoled, convinced, pushed, willed, controlled or demanded change?
Or have you felt the power of change more often when you have zero control....you surrender (I don't mean resignation and self-pity), you feel love and loved, supported, willing, accepting, kind, steady, gentle, open-minded?
I've made far more long-term permanent changes the second way. Honestly, only the second way.
No vigilance involved. No clutching.
I also notice it wasn't "me" who really made the change. Something happened, I sought help, I learned, I interacted, I was drawn to the next thing, then the next.
Willing to love the journey in all its bumps, stalls, mishaps, challenges and imperfections.
Just like the body.
Much love,
Grace
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