Monday, December 10, 2007

An ode to my self

I had a massage last Friday evening. It was heavenly, and as I was having my body kneaded and pulled and stroked, I thought about how wonderful I felt to not be judged by my body, just have it attended to lovingly. (As an actor, you are judged all the time, trust me, you just walk into the waiting room for an audition and the comparisons start to fly.) I was asked if I had any particular areas that needed attention and how much pressure would be good. With every efficient stroke, I thought this was how I was going to treat myself as I lose weight. For every five pounds, I will reward myself with a massage and not a piece of cake. Or a pedicure or reflexology or something like that.

It reminded me that though it is far from perfect, it has served me (for the most part) pretty well. Thinking of PJ's post about self esteem, I actually composed a poem to my body as I lay there in bliss. I don't remember most of it, but it went something like this.

Feet, you have withstood so much pain in order to fit into sexy heels, been bruised by careless people, misplaced items or the wheel under my bed. But you carried me on and on. You ached and complained, but you did your
job.

Legs, when my lungs wanted to quit, you did not. You carried me through miles of cement and miles of trails, you carried me 10 km to the finish line without seizing, without tiring. You have more power than I ever gave you credit for. You were born to dance, to move, to run, to strut, to jump.

Arms, I've thrown you up in despair and down in surrender. You've held other people's babies, and groceries, and hope and leashes and lovers and friends. Parts of you are waving more than I care to admit, but you are strong and would never let a friend down.

Shoulders, knotted deeply with stress, but you have carried your burdens as
best as you can. You still look good in with nothing but a shawl around you.

Back, still smooth and soft, you let me know from time to time when I am
not taking care of you. You crave strength and discipline, you have
allowed me to live my life with grace and dignity. You are courage and
perseverance, wisdom and solitude.



Hubby is noticing my weight loss, and compliments and encourages me. But you know what, that's nice, but I wonder at what point do the compliments become actions? When do I become worthy of his affections? How do I stay open to that possibility? This is so weird, but I will continue to try and stay connected, to stay focused on what I truly need to be happy.

4 comments:

JJ said...

I love this poem--Im saving this to read again, and again!

Lori said...

What a wonderful tribute to yourself.

Now I know what I want for Christmas -- to be kneaded!

Pamela Jeanne said...

I am so glad you took the time to get that well earned massage. Your post reminded me of the near addiction I had to massages after my treatments didn't work. I needed desperately to release the stress from my body and to escape mentally -- assisted by the flutes and harps that played softly in the room. They felt good at the time, but I also realized over time that the only way to relieve the stress at its core was to work through the emotions that caused them. You're doing both and I think that will do you a world of good -- both body and soul.

Teendoc said...

I don't want this to sound like assvice, but since my couple's therapist recommended we do these exercises, I am also suggesting them to you. I'm sure you've read the book, Getting the Love You Want by Harville Hendrix. He has a couple's workbook that we are now doing exercises from as part of our therapy. Perhaps this is something you and hubby can do as well?