After the Inauguration/Post Super Bowl

i.e. February.

“How’s everybody feeling about now?” She called out.

“Fat and pasty!” The crowd called back.

Why I meditate.

To manage my emotions about feeling fat and pasty.

And to get through the slog of.

FEBRUARY!

Ugh.

Anyway. That’s all just a prelude to some deeper thoughts that have been thinking.

About words.

Words can create ways of being. And thinking and living.

Isn’t that just crazy?

Here’s a word.

Failure.

How many times have you “failed.”

How many times did it take to make you feel like

A “failure?”

Are you really a failure?

At what?

Life?

or

Being a student? A parent? A manager? A careerist? A spouse? A friend? A sibling?

Seriously.

You are NOT a failure.

Because that is simply too small a word to describe what you have experienced and attempted and accomplished and messed up and learned and grown and.

Sometimes and often

failure means there is another path. A new beginning. Or an ending that must be acknowledged.

So much more than just

Failure.

How about instead

Life.

“Why do we fall down Master Wayne?” asks Alfred.

“So that we can get up,” ¬†Batman says with a smile.

I suppose then – really if you were to take a word to its end.

Failure would be not getting up.

And so.

A simple philosophy.

Fall down.

Get up.

Repeat.

My Name is Anne. I Am Not Barbie. Nor Will I Ever Be.

Set a timer for ten minutes. Open a new post. Start the timer, and start writing. When the timer goes off, publish. 

Isn’t that something? This whole Word Press Blogging World has little nudges to get you going?

Why not?

So…..Ummm….I’ve set my timer…..I haven’t posted in a few days…..so there must be posts percolating in this head of mine….I’ve only got 10 minutes….until 5:51 to be precise…..

And you know what – here’s what I’ve been thinking about.

Our bodies.

My body. This me. This me that I am constantly fretting over.

That I live in wonder of:

How it runs so far; doesn’t run far enough; is energized; is exhausted; is fit; is fat; is healthy; is sick; is never, ever, ever what I really want it to be:

Tall with long legs and big boobs like Barbie!

Isn’t that the MOST RIDICULOUS THING YOU’VE EVER HEARD?!?

So. You know. Writing that down. Here today. With the 10 minutes that I have. Is helpful.

We experience the entire world through our bodies. And yet, so much time is spent in our heads. Hoping and trying and worrying and thinking.

I want to love my body. Just the way it is today. Because. Wait for it…my body is me. I want to love me just the way I am today and tomorrow and so on and so forth.

Obviously. In order to do that:

I need to give up the dream, the taunt, that I will ever look like Barbie in order to love this five foot two me.

Holy Cow. It’s amazing what you can do with 10 minutes.