We didn’t always have the information to know how they function best...but now we do.
November has been a coming back to an honoring of the body that has served me so faithfully and so well throughout my life. A body I haven’t always appreciated or thanked or revered as much as I wished I had now.
A body I haven’t always stood up for when “professionals” gave me their opinion of how it was doing.
I was a vegetarian for eight years because it made me feel more connected with myself and with nature.
Last January, I decided to take a year to revisit eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. I made homemade ice cream for the first time. I ate hamburgers. I ate BBQ on the 4th of July. I ate fried chicken at an old “meat ‘n three” in a town in the middle of nowhere and green beans floating in bacon grease. I’m not sorry I took this year of eating haphazardly. Some of it was a lot of fun. I met a lot of wonderful people and took a lot of great photos.
I let my esophagus burn while my stomach tried to digest the grease. I allowed my blood sugar to skyrocket and then plummet, leaving me foggy-headed and exhausted. I switched to looser-fitting clothing to accommodate the increasing size of my arms, legs and everything else.
I pushed them aside while still silently praying that something would magnetize all the fragments into something whole to propel me forward with a renewed sense of my body's value.
I will not recount what happened physically to get my attention. But it has to do with my head.
My skull was in trouble.
Danger in my skull was a wake-up I had to address.
Bone grafts are in place. Stitches hold them firm.
My body. It's not mine, at the moment, to entertain with a bowlful of flavors and textures. It's for me to protect it. To love it. To feed it with the stuff that imparts energy and opens up all its potential.
To raise it up again for the promise of another adventure.