I know I said I was going to take a couple of days off from writing, but once I read the prompt, my brain just started ticking away!
I mentioned in my last post that I've always struggled with acceptance of my body. When I think about that a little more, it starts to seem pretty crazy. My body and I are one. I am my body, in the most profound way possible. Aren't I? Some philosophers think so, others not. Hmmmm!
About 6 months ago, I wrote a piece called, "A Conversation with Body". I pretended that my mind and my body were two separate entities, and they could talk to each other. After a while, I even found that the creative side of my personality, the part I call Apartmentcat, was butting in as well! The two (three) participants in the conversation had different styles of speaking, but they managed to communicate successfully. It was a lot of fun to write, but it was also an important moment for me. Every time I read back through it, I laugh and then tears come to my eyes. The lessons I learned from it are ones I would do well to remember. Perhaps I will read it once a month from now on.
In that piece, I mentioned how I felt when I visited Japan. I felt the same way when I visited Europe earlier this year. Normally, being in my body is like dragging around an incalcitrant child. When I'm on holiday though, the excitement and wonder overtakes me and I forget all about it. I forget that I'm fat. I forget that I can't walk 5kms in one go. I forget that my legs rub together when I walk and my bra needs re-arranging and my tummy jiggles. I forget that I have stomach churning and reflux, and that my back hurts. The discomfort disappears. I'm too busy having experiences. All of a sudden I'm the child, running around, carefree.
I'm still of two minds about whether forgetting your body is there, is the same thing as feeling integrated with it. I suppose it is.
Actually, I regret describing my body as a recalcitrant child. Poor thing! She/I deserve better than that. *self-hug*