Last night I had an intimate conversation with my thighs. I was doing some light yoga to relax before bed and there they were…..looking like two sausages stuffed into white casing (my white yoga pants), starting back at me. I just couldn’t stand it. All the sudden the mental saga went off in my mind: Why did you eat XX?? Why weren’t you born with long, lean legs? Why this? Why that? you get the idea.
For as long as I remember my thighs and I have had a love-hate relationship. On one hand, I love how strong and withstanding they are, and for those same attributes I resent the fact that the look more like tree stumps to me than legs. See how skewed my brain is?
The more I examine my wellness vision, which includes both physically nourishing foods, but also mental nourishment, the more I realize that this antagonizing thought pattern is as toxic as eating a box of little Debbie’s and washing it down with Yahoo (and you can bet that I’ve done that in my heyday).
Then, a miracle. My loving, fat, fluffy cat wandered into the room where I was doing yoga. She came and sat right on my lap. Right on my beefy sausage legs. And she started purring. She did not care that my thighs touched, and always have. It was She simply nestled in, she relaxed, and she just loved me in the way only she knows how to do: by falling asleep in my lap, completely in peace.
In that moment I realized how critical and ridiculous my mental litany had been. Could my thighs be THAT bad? Could I accept the fact that I don’t have Julia Robert’s legs (and never will. I’m Greek, for God’s sake: not a people known for long, gangly limbs). So I decided to let it go. And for that moment, I could embrace and appreciate something about my thighs for the first time in a while. Just like my cat, my thighs are simply being themselves. There is no shame or hesitation in the way they develop. They have no hidden agenda. They are not judging me or sabotaging me. My body is simpy expressing itself as it knows best how to do. And if that isn’t natural beauty, then what is?
So I dedicate this post to my cat, Madeline, who is infinitely wiser than I am. She always know what I need and I learn so much from her, even though she’s never spoken a word to me. She eats off white too (all organic gluten-free cat food): it must be what makes her so dang smart 🙂