Loving a Body

Loving a body is about nooks and crannies, 
the first hints of silver at the temples,
laughing out loud at the TV in the next room,
a pile of unwashed dishes but
opting for a snuggle instead.

Loving a body invites an opening,
a breathing into acceptance of that
one damned trait that can absolutely-drive-you-crazy –
until you let go,
celebrating strengths instead of obsessing.

Loving a body is both charted and uncharted;
we often have guides, some better than others –
who lead us into possibility.  Who hold
the stumble as precious and expected,
even welcomed.

Loving your own body is a wild landscape –
some have gone before you, but
the dispatches are few and far between.
And what is endearing in loving another
quickly turns to scorn when the object is yourself.

Loving your own body is practice, patience, persistence and
the metabolism of loss.  That is how I heard yoga
described recently, and the way the two
map each other is inextricable.  Broken and organic,
ragged and seamless.

Anna, Curvy Yoga