The Body Electric

The Body Electric: Day Nine

Once upon a time, I was a little uncomfortable owning such a great-big pair of eyes.

If you’ve been reading this blog for long, you’ve probably at some point seen my tiny Gravatar photo and realized that my eyes aren’t just big — they’re gigantic.  And the trouble with that is you can generally spot what I’m thinking and feeling from all the way across the room … even if I’m trying to hide it.  

Emotionally speaking, my face isn’t just an open book … it’s a big-screen projection.  Which, when I was younger and less confident, could sometimes feel terribly embarrassing.

Lately, though, I’m learning to be grateful for my great-big eyes … and especially for the small moments of magic that they find to enjoy…  

Like the tiger-striped shadows of the trees on yesterday’s trail:

eyes1

Or the subtle watermarks of leaves on the sidewalk, their brown husks long since blown away:

eyes2

These things may look simple, but I’ll tell you:  they bring me serious joy.

Today, I’m grateful. ❀

eyes6

///

{Wonder what’s happening here?  For thirty days this December, I’m challenging myself to enjoy this body I’m living in:  to take pleasure in all my senses, to explore it and use it in new ways … and most of all, simply to cherish it.  I hope you’ll join me for the journey. <3}

Advertisements
Standard

40 thoughts on “The Body Electric: Day Nine

  1. Great-big eyes. Hmmmm… Those three words immediately made my mind go back to the tale of Little Red Riding Hood.

    Sorry, where was I? πŸ˜€

    I can relate to your challenge to a certain extent; I hated everything about myself growing up. Thick curly hair that did its own thing (I was so embarrassed about it that I always wore a hat, something I still do to this day). Big barrel chest and chunky thighs, no matter how thin I got. Big weight swings. Thick glasses in fifth grade, which have gotten ever thicker over the years. Ugh.

    It didn’t help that we/I moved so frequently — it averaged about once per year until my early thirties, when I finally said I’d had enough. Due to all of the moves, I was always an outsider — and that just seemed to focus all sorts of awful comments on how I looked by others.

    And did I mention my hyper-critical mother? The one I can only visit for three days at a time every few years? I’m the only one of us three kids that still stays in contact with her, so I’ll just leave it at that.

    What changed all of this for me was my second marriage, which came with unconditional love. Even then, it was a good ten or fifteen years into the relationship before I began to relax and realize that she wasn’t going anywhere, and that I was finally accepted for whom I was.

    I feel comfortable now. Enough to share it with others.

    And I like your photos; they are the same things I see with my hazel eyes.

    Liked by 1 person

    • It truly is a radical and life-changing thing, isn’t it… Knowing you are loved unconditionally? I love that piece of your story and hearing how it’s freed you to love yourself.

      Sounds like we have a lot in common … I was sometimes awkward as a child too: dreamy, artistic and smart. It wasn’t until adulthood that those characteristics became socially desirable, and I developed a sparkly social ease and charm. But I still have moments of feeling a little vulnerable, as I’m sure we all do.

      I love having you for a reader, Mitch, and I love that you feel free to share here. Thank you for being you. πŸ™‚

      Like

  2. Indeed, you do have beautiful eyes. I suppose they were put there for a reason. Someone once said that (and I’ll have to paraphrase) ‘the eyes are mirrors of the soul’… so there must be a beautiful soul beneath.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Eyes are made for seeing. And looking. The bigger the better.
    You have lovely big eyes. Isn’t that another instance of women’s permanent insatisfaction with their looks when they look just fine? πŸ™‚
    Green or blue? I bet green. πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s