Love Your Loved Ones’ Bodies

My mom has always had great legs. She would deny it to her dying breath, but it’s true. Even now that she’s older than she’d care to admit. My sister has always had an amazing body… she’s carried three babies (two at the same time!) and eats triathlons for breakfast. And I love my dad’s chest… he gives the greatest hugs. Nothing feels as safe and steady. My family doesn’t look like a bevy of runway models. But I love their bodies.

As you learn to love your body, teach yourself to love the bodies of the people you love.

What do you love about your grandmother’s body? Your cousin? Your aunt? What do you love about your brother’s body?

Look for what’s good in the bodies of those you care about. Pick someone. First just look at your family member (or friend) remembering what you love about them. Notice if your tendency is to criticize their body. Soften around your judgments and just say “Hi” to their body. Remind yourself that their body is what makes it possible to love them, what allows them to be embodied and present in your life. What are you grateful for about their body? How does their body take care of and support them, allowing you to be in relationship with them?

Think of a time when they’ve been sick or injured. Thank their body for healing and for taking care of them so that they are around for you to love and enjoy their presence. What’s good and beautiful in their body? It might be that they have strong arms or soft cheeks, warm hands or a round, comforting belly. Maybe you’re grateful that their liver or kidneys have held up so well. Can you see the beauty and the good in their body? Can you find something about their body you admire, perhaps something you’d never realized you were fond of?

If your family is anything like mine, they’ve got real bodies, not airbrushed and not “perfect” in an abstract, idealized way. And yet they are lovable. When you can see the beauty in Great Aunt Mary’s arms, it’s so much easier to soften and see the beauty in your own arms. When you remember how fond you are of your grandfather’s belly, it’s less of a stretch to embrace what’s good about your own. Get out of the habit of criticizing others’ bodies and… you get the idea.

Learn to love all bodies and you’ll have less trouble loving your own!

Love Your Body Blog Part 52

Die Bad Photo! Die!

No one should be allowed to take pictures during Twister. Seriously.

Have you ever had your picture taken while your right foot is on blue, left hand on red, ass in the sky? Imagine the photographic possibilities… emphasis on “graphic” intended.

Years ago at a Twister party at my house, a friend snapped some shots, and months later the pictures ended up in my lap. (Remember the pre-Facebook lag time of our ancient past?) The party was a blast; I remember laughing til I nearly peed my pants. Which is always a good sign.

Yet holding those photos in my hand I wanted to erase that night from my memory forever.

At least two of the pictures prominently featured my butt sticking high up in the air… dwarfing everything else in its vicinity. OMG. Kill me now. Is that really what my butt looks like? The Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man in yoga pants?

Horrified doesn’t begin to touch my reaction.

It was as if someone had taken my happy memory of the evening and spray-painted “Fat Ugly Bitch” across it in drippy red letters. Placing the pictures upside down on the coffee table, I huddled in a ball on the couch and resolved to go on a diet the very next day. I wouldn’t stop until I’d starved myself to oblivion. How could my friends stand to look at me? How could anyone stand to look at me?

A lump formed in my throat.

The party had been so much fun. Until that moment, I’d felt great about the party, pretty good about my body, and satisfied with my life. What changed to make me wish the party had never happened? Did those pictures have enough power not only to make me hate that night, but to hate my body and throw myself into the arms of some harmful diet for months or years to come? Who gave these pictures that much power?

Me.

My friend didn’t intend mischief by sharing the pictures. She quite sensibly assumed I’d be thrilled to have photos of our evening of laughter-induced incontinence. Everyone had a great time, and no one complained about the size or prominence of my butt. No one told me I needed to go on a diet. The photos themselves were just pieces of paper with ink on them. I was the one who gave them the power to change how I felt about a night that happened months ago, and to undermine how I felt about my body and my life.

I’d given all my power away to two 4X6 pieces of glossy paper.

This sudden realization jolted me from the corner of the couch into which I’d burrowed. I sat up and turned the pictures over. I didn’t have to give them that much power. I didn’t have to give them any power. My life is good, my body is good. I glanced at the butt shots and decided that, most likely, no one’s butt looks good in Twister shots. These were just pictures of me having a good time with my friends. I didn’t have to fix them or fix myself.

Photos can be weirdly powerful. Have you ever given your power away to a particular photo? Can you take it back?

Let’s not give our power away to inanimate objects and the stories we tell ourselves about what they mean. Trust your body. Does it feel good? Is it happy? Is it getting the fuel and fun it needs? No photo can tell the truth about your body. Only your body knows the truth about you. Pause now and listen.

Love Your Body Blog Part 51

Holy Sacred Body!

What is sacred to you? The image of Notre Dame’s massive stained glass windows arises first in my mind, and then a cathedral formed by enormous trees sheltering the forest floor. The first moment I held my baby son in my arms felt deeply sacred. In fact, the occasional hug in which my ear is placed near his chest and I hear his heart’s steady beat still fills me with relief and quiet wonder.

What do I mean by sacred? That which fills you with a sense of awe, that effortlessly draws your attention so that you can’t help but pause, take it in, and remember for a moment how brief and miraculous life is.

We call certain places sacred—a temple, a holy marker, a cemetery, a river—and approach them with respect and dignity. When I visited Swayambhunath Stupa in Kathmandu (a gorgeous Buddhist monument surrounded by monkey-filled trees), upon arriving at the base of the dome on top of the hill I immediately felt drawn to its powerful energy. Looking up at the golden eyes of Buddha against the blue sky, and watching the pilgrims circling the base spinning the prayer wheels and murmuring their mantras, my heart wavered and expanded and my eyes filled with tears. Sacred. Any place that thousands, perhaps even millions of people approach as sacred gathers palpable energy that can resonate in your body and soul whether or not you ascribe to the accompanying beliefs.

But we don’t have to travel far to find (or make) something sacred. A home altar provides a sacred place where we arrange objects that help us focus our attention on what is important to us and what we want our lives to be about. The objects themselves and even the IKEA coffee table they live on become sacred. We get disgruntled if an oblivious guest abandons their crumpled cup or gum wrapper there. If the forest or the beach feels like sacred space to you, the idea of leaving broken plastic wine glasses and crumpled paper napkins from your picnic to blow around in the grass and rocks is sacrilegious. You wouldn’t dream of it.

Why do we treat our bodies like they are less worthy than a temple or the forest? Is your body any less a miracle than the beach? Your human body is a work of evolutionary art, vastly more amazing in its complexity and mystery than the most elaborately constructed Gothic cathedral.

In the words of Walt Whitman:

I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars,

…And the running blackberry would adorn the parlours of heaven,

And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery,

And the cow crunching with depress’d head surpasses any statue,

And a mouse is a miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels

You’ve heard, “Your body is a temple.” So how is your temple? Do you treat your temple like the sacred space it is? Or do you disrespect it? You wouldn’t dream of breaking into someone’s church or synagogue or mosque and spraying hateful graffiti on the walls. Yet many of us have no self-restraint when it comes to insulting ourselves, criticizing and abusing our bodies, and coming back for more. This is the equivalent of vandalizing our own church; using the altar cloths to wipe our feet, getting piss-drunk on the holy wine, and melting the sacred objects down to buy heavy weapons and, of course, more spray paint.

Six steps to treat your body like a temple:

1. Recognize its beauty. See how extraordinary your body truly is.

2. Approach your body with respect and awe. “Oh Nobly Born,” (as the Buddha says), be gentle with and dignified toward your body. Offer your body loving rituals of cleansing.

3. Treat your body the way you would any other sacred space. Don’t throw mental, emotional, and psychological “garbage” on it. Be kind and responsible.

4. Honor it. Listen to what food, movement, rest, and attention it needs and meet those needs appropriately. Dress your body with attention to the comfort and beauty that allows its beauty to shine fully.

5. Protect it. Avoid people who don’t treat your body with the respect it deserves, and situations which endanger its well-being.

6. Pause and enjoy it. Experience and appreciate your own aliveness. Slow down and savor your life.

Your body is sacred space. Meet it with reverence and delight.

Encourage others to treat their bodies as sacred space as well. Yoga master Richard Freeman says that once we’ve drawn the circle to show “everything inside this line is sacred,” we must to remember to erase the line as well. The circle helps us focus our attention, and then we recognize how the sacred lives within us and everywhere else.

Be the temple. Love your body, love your yoga, love the world.

I’d love to hear your ideas about other ways you can treat your body like a temple….

Love Your Body Blog Part 50

Dear Body, A Love Letter

Have you ever written a love letter to your body? No? Why not? Tell your body how you feel about it. Be honest, be authentic. Share with it your disappointments, fears, longings, and dreams. Snuggle up and write your best friend/body a love letter. Here’s mine:

Dear Body,

It’s taken me a long time to get up the nerve to write you this letter. You deserve so much more than just a few pixels typed out on the computer. Think of this letter as warm socks, showers of rose petals, and an afternoon playing in the beach surf all rolled up into one. It’s a love letter of sorts… though it begins with an apology.

You’ve been incredibly dependable my whole life, taking care of me, hiking with me through the forest, dancing and making music, helping me expand into life in every possible way. And what did I do? I was mad at you for longer than I care to admit. I hid you out of shame. I made fun of you in front of other people. I starved you and mistreated you. I overfed you and then blamed you for existing. I invested time, energy, and money in developing my brain (which you tolerated for years without complaint) and then resented you when you rebelled with pain. My humblest apologies don’t nearly begin to touch the depth of what I put you through. I would never treat anyone else the way I’ve treated you. I am so sorry.

Don’t you find it annoying when someone apologizes but doesn’t add the oh-so-important corollary: “…and I’ll make sure it never happens again.”? So… from now on I promise to do my very best to treat you with the love and respect you deserve. I might make mistakes, I might not love you perfectly at every moment, but know that I’ve resolved that nothing will stand in the way of me loving you ever again. No one’s opinion, no bad mirrors, no ugly photos: I won’t let anything convince me that you aren’t worth loving just the way you are.

You have been a best friend to me all this time, unconditionally supporting everything I love to do and create. I want to do the same for you. I want to listen to you and nurture you, see the beauty in you and support all the changes and adventures you have yet to experience. I want to be your best friend.

Teach me how to love you. Teach me how to listen. Remind me that your beauty is incomparable and inherent in what you are, a magnificent human body. Here are just a few things to remind us both of what I love about you:

You are strong, flexible, amazingly responsive and adventurous.

Your hands reflect back to me my mother, my grandmother, and beyond even that… through you I see a long line of women’s hands that have raised families, learned, loved, and shaped the world.

You are tall, yet steady. Solid, yet graceful. You are soft, but firm.

You are easily delighted: by rain on your face, by the softness of an animal’s fur, by the rustle of leaves, by the sparkle of sunlight.

You are quiet and secretly wild. Other times you are loud and secretly in awe.

I love you. Thank you for being you. Thank you for loving me despite everything. I’m here for you. We’re in this together. May I learn how to love you better every day.

Yours truly, Kimber

Love Your Body Blog Part 49

You Have the Perfect Body

Have you ever seen a perfectly straight, infinitely long line? Me neither. How about a perfectly mathematically round sphere? Nope, never seen one. Perfectly straight lines and perfectly round spheres exist only in one place: your mind. Nature doesn’t make mathematically perfect objects, and yet who could say that a tree isn’t perfect?

Idealized perfection exists only in our minds. You will never be mathematically perfect. Your body will never be mathematically perfect. Even the people we think are perfect aren’t perfect. After seeing an airbrushed photo of herself, Cindy Crawford once said, “I wish I looked like Cindy Crawford.”

Who wants to look at a mathematically perfect tree? Have you ever seen those radio towers disguised with xmas tree needles to look like trees? They are weirdly symmetrical and unnatural looking. We love the imperfection in nature; the uneven crags and knolls are what draw us to a gorgeous landscape.

Yet often we expect our bodies to be perfect: for women, cellulite-free, hairless, toned but not muscley, tanned, free of pimples, scars, veins, and of course wrinkles. Perfection in humans is entirely limited to the class of human beings who live their flat lives on billboards and in magazines. All their imperfections have been wiped clean by technology’s magical brush. Whose body is perfect? No one’s. No one’s real body is perfect.

Our idealized definition of perfect is a soul-crushing steam-roller that flattens many girls (and some boys as well) starting at age ten or younger. We learn our bodies can never measure up and we go to wild extremes to reach for a perfection that, like a desert mirage, lures us on until we find ourselves face down in the sand and dying of thirst. For years I tried to shape my body into an unattainable perfection that left me hating myself and hating life and isolated from the people who loved me most.

It’s time to redefine “perfect” and throw out our habit of holding up outer perfection as a desirable goal. We don’t have to go too far to find a new meaning… in yoga, perfect is purna. Purna means not abstract perfection, but wholeness, completeness, fullness; perfect as a real experience of life… everything is perfect by being fully itself. Purna/perfect is natural, vibrant, asymmetrical, and dynamic. It changes, but is always perfect nonetheless. Perfect is no longer about comparing ourselves to something outside of us, but is our own experience, our own lives, our own bodies. You are already yourself, you are already perfect. There is nothing to attain.

Perfect is a way to see yourself. It’s not something we buy from a cosmetics company or a plastic surgeon. You are incomparable. To be perfect you need only to step fully into being yourself, and no one else. No one can show you your perfection… it’s like asking the fish to see the water or inside its own bones. Perfect is simply who you are.

Even the parts of ourselves we most dislike are perfect. Years ago after I'd lamented the stretch marks on my thighs, my partner responded, “I love your stretch marks. I love your thighs. Your stretch marks tell me you are a living, breathing woman who’s had many life experiences, all of which I value because they make you who you are: the person I love.”

To practice redefining perfect for yourself, walk down the sidewalk and observe the trees (even the stunted ones) and flowers (even the wilted ones) and say, “This is perfect. That is perfect. This thing is perfectly itself, perfectly alive, perfect in its experience.” See how things are perfect in their imperfection. Then look in the mirror and say to your flaws and your assymetries: “You are perfect. You are perfectly yourself.” Start to open your eyes to how you are perfect in your own imperfection.

Love Your Body Blog Part 48

Love Your Slow Sex: Love Your Body Blog Part 47

Today I digress to talk more about sex. Sex and loving your body go hand-in-hand, and I didn’t get any complaints from my last venture onto this limb, quite the opposite, in fact! You might remember that several weeks ago I gave away a free One Taste women’s sexuality retreat to a blog-reader. This week I’m sharing with you a new book written by the facilitator of the retreat, Nicole Daedone, called Slow Sex: the Art and Craft of the Female Orgasm.

Has it ever happened that you never noticed something in the world, let’s say delivery trucks with attached lift equipment, until one backs into your car, squashing your hood, and then suddenly you start seeing them everywhere?

Not to say this has ever happened to me, except for last Thursday afternoon. Since then, it’s as if delivery trucks were invented and populated the planet overnight. They are everywhere.

When the folks at One Taste first contacted me, I had never heard of them in the 17 years I’ve lived in the Bay Area. Then overnight, friends and acquaintances at parties start telling me, “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of them, they have a center in SF, don’t they… [fill in the blank],” and later they email me articles from the New York Times and Salon. Suddenly I’m feeling like the kid who was in the bathroom while the teacher did a headstand on her desk. Where have I been? And what is this whole celebration of the female orgasm about?

In the book’s intro, Daedone compares slow sex to the taste of a ripe, juicy heirloom tomato.

That certainly grabbed my attention. As the granddaughter of a man who considered a plate of his home-grown sliced tomatoes a dessert equal to my grandmother’s blackberry cobbler, when you start talking tomatoes, I know you’re serious. What else really needs to be said?

A lot apparently.

Apparently we’re pretty repressed (no surprise there), don’t know what to ask for, or how to ask for it (somewhat surprising), and don’t feel entitled to acknowledge our desires (disturbing and definitely worth looking into). Slow Sex offers men a way to listen and tap into female desire, and shows women how to unearth their desire and release it in a way that reinvigorates their whole lives.

From the gossip I’d heard about One Taste, I expected Slow Sex to be an indictment of monogamy and a clarion call for a return to the glories of 70’s style swinging.

If that’s the book you’re looking for, save your money. Daedone describes her orgasmic meditation and slow sex techniques mostly as they apply to primary heterosexual relationships, with the exception of a few nods to singles and lesbian and gay couples. Conventional and yet not.

Though I’m at the disadvantage of not having read widely in the field of sex manuals (with the notable exception of The Joy of Sex shared up and down the dorm hallway in college), the upshot of Slow Sex is this: women’s orgasms matter, and they are not what you think. They are not fancy, not high-volume, not fever-pitched. They don’t require an advanced degree in biomechanical engineering.

A woman can orgasm for 15 minutes or for the rest of her life.

Any woman. You. The secret is what Daedone calls Orgasmic Meditation or OMing (cute, huh?). You may never again Om at the beginning of yoga class without an inner smile. OMing and Om-ing are essentially unrelated, except that they both invoke a meditative state of concentration. In the chapter “How to Om”, Daedone takes you and your partner through all the steps to OM, building communication, trust, and access to an inexhaustible source of energy along the way. Honestly, it sounds pretty fun.

To tell you the truth, I haven’t tried OM yet, but I’m intrigued.

A technique that combines meditation, orgasm, relationship, and increased joy for life? I’m listening.

What especially delights me about Slow Sex is its emphasis on how to listen to your body, feel the sensations, and grow in your sensitivity and awareness. As in yoga, desire is not a problem, but a path to explore honestly, with love and devotion. In these ways, Slow Sex is simply an extension of yoga practice into intimate relationships and reveals an ocean worth diving into.

As I turned the last page last night, I wondered who should read this book.

Which of my friends and students would find this book helpful, even life-changing? Here are some questions you can ask yourself: Do you want to experience orgasm, possibly for the first time, or in a different way than you ever imagined? Do you want to improve your communication during sex with your partner, and possibly in the rest of your relationship as well? Do you want to access your desire more deeply, and learn to channel it into your life? Do you sense that OM might take you further on your journey of learning to love your body? Maybe OM is for you.

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

To find out more about One Taste go to http://www.onetaste.us/ . To view Slow Sex on Amazon, click here. (And no, silly, of course I don’t get kickbacks.)

The Second Arrow: Love Your Body Blog Part 46

What do you see when you look in the mirror? What story do you tell yourself about your body?

If you’re like many people, when you see your reflection in the mirror, you think, “Ugh. When will I get rid of these fat rolls/cellulite mountains/burgeoning stretch marks?!” Then you silently (or not so silently) vow that tomorrow you are starting a new diet/new exercise program/new strategy for excising that part of your body forever. Then later, when you’re driving, or washing the dishes, or talking to a friend on the phone, you’re still giving yourself a hard time about it-- sometimes for hours or weeks.

“There are two arrows,” Buddha told his students. “The first arrow is pain, injury, loss. You can’t avoid it. What you can avoid is the second arrow; the one you shoot at yourself about why you got shot by the first arrow to begin with.”

When I share this story with my yoga students, they often look at me with surprise. “I don’t have to shoot the second arrow? I don’t have to tell and re-tell the story about how there is something wrong with me? Or him? Or the world?” Nope. That’s the suffering we create for ourselves. You don’t have to tell the story that makes you or the world bad.

Here’s an example: my partner comes home late from work. I’m mad, because I had dinner ready 45 minutes ago, and she didn’t even call to tell me she was running late. Her being late is the first arrow. The second arrow is the story I tell myself:

What a complete, inconsiderate, insensitive, self-centered jerk! I can’t believe I married her. What’s wrong with me that I always end up with people who walk all over me?

Then I shoot a few kerosene-soaked second arrows at her, too. Add a little PMS to this flammable mix of arrows, and we can end up in an epic, hours-long fight involving slamming doors, threats of divorce, and multiple emptied tissue boxes.

Instead, what if I didn’t shoot the second arrow?

People are late sometimes and forget to call, despite their best efforts. What if I thought to myself, “I’m bummed she got home late. Maybe she’s bummed too. I know she loves me and would never do this on purpose.”? First arrow but no second arrow. Pain but no suffering. Disappointment but no argument.

When you look into the mirror what’s the first arrow? Your body. Your aging, changing, un-airbrushed body. Your body is what it is. It’s not bad, it’s not necessarily even painful. It’s just a body.

But looking in the mirror, I might instantly compare my lips to Angelina Jolie or my thighs to some 20 year old model’s that I saw on a radio station billboard. Squinting at the reflection I remind myself that my lips are nothing like Angelina’s and even when I was 20, my body did not look like an airbrushed model’s. The longer I look, the crappier I feel. Comparing myself negatively to someone else is a second arrow inandof itself. Then I get out the big artillery: the story I tell myself about why I don’t look “better.” It starts with, “What’s wrong with me that I don’t look younger/thinner/more gorgeous?” And moves to, “I need to work out more and do a master cleanse, that will get me started.” Soon my inner anorexic feels her powers return and she helpfully suggests, “Stop eating.” Uh-oh.

How do we stop shooting the second arrow?

First, notice when you start comparing. Your body stands alone. Your body is good and worthy. Heck, it’s carried you around your whole life, and for its thanks you compare it to Hollywood actresses, or your friend, or yourself ten years ago? Get real and give it a break. Second, notice when an encounter with the mirror (or scale---a different sort of mirror) sets your inner critic on a raucous meth-binge of self-hatred. Or sends you over a speed bump of dieting wistfulness.

Notice your usual second arrows.

Get to know them, let them become like old friends. When the one with the story about how you should eat and look like Kate Moss/your svelte aunt/your tiny friend comes up, just say, “Hey, it’s you again. Thanks for stopping by and sharing your opinion. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t serve you refreshments and ask you to stay awhile, but I’ve really got better things to do.”

When you notice yourself repeating a really sticky story (like shooting yourself over and over with the same second arrow), observe how it feels in your body and in your heart. Offer it your breath, and a sense of spaciousness and tenderness. These stories can be powerful and persistent. But really, they’re just stories.

You have the ability to tell different stories.

Nowadays, instead of shooting second arrows at myself, when I see my reflection in the mirror, I tell myself:

This is a good body. Thanks for everything you do, body. I’m working hard to learn to love you and to keep loving you no matter what. We’re in this together.

Instead of being mad at my body, I feel a sense of friendliness and trust. Where I once had to duck to avoid the second arrows, now my body soaks up gratitude and affection.

The next time you find yourself in the mirror, notice your second arrows, get to know them, and offer your reflection healing, instead of hurt.

(Thanks to yoga instructor and author Judith Lasater, who first told me a version of the second arrow story.)

Body Snark: Love Your Body Blog Part 45

Are you snarky about bodies?

You know what I mean: Have you ever elbowed a friend who’s gained some weight and thought (or said!), “Hey, leave some for me!” Do you look at super-skinny models and comment under your breath, “Ouch. Someone give that girl a sandwich.” Honestly, even saying to someone, “You look great, have you lost weight?” is unintentionally snarky. Think about it: you’re implying you thought all along they should lose a few pounds… and well, they didn’t look so hot before. Plus, I’ve had enough friends go through cancer that I make a point of not mentioning someone’s missing pounds. Seriously, once you overhear someone’s reply, “Oh yeah, I got my diagnosis last month and the chemo’s really killed my appetite,” you’ll never mention weight loss again.

In fact, I still get triggered if someone asks me I’ve lost weight.

My mind spins off, “Did I look fat before? Why are they keeping track of my weight? Everybody’s looking at me. Maybe everybody thinks I’m fat. Why do I look skinnier? Maybe I’m not eating enough. Maybe I’m becoming anorexic again. Now I’m hungry.” My thoughts zoom away on their own wild roller coaster. Most days I have the peace of mind to step off before the ride gets too scary, but not always.

Yet I’m guilty of overt snark myself.

Just the other day while walking in San Francisco, I saw a gym ad on the side of the bus with the skinniest woman I’d seen in a long time. My first thought was, “Ew. When did they start using famine victims to advertise gym memberships?”

This is a complicated sentiment for me.

At first, I was pleased with myself. Not so long ago, this recovering anorexic still wanted to be that super-skinny model. I take my mean comment as proof that my inner anorexic is off-duty, and that I no longer equate skinniness with health and desirability. I also feel justified in acknowledging that holding up super-skinny women as what all women should (want to) look like is a mean-spirited practical joke for most of us.

However, labeling all super-skinny women as famine victims is just as unfair as labeling all fat people gluttons. Several of my thin friends have trouble keeping weight on, not because they are starving themselves, but because of their metabolism and body type. They don’t need my labels or my snarkiness. Or anyone else’s. Thin, fat, or anything in between, no body enjoys insensitive criticism.

Many of my fat friends don’t mind being called “fat”: in fact, in some circles, identifying as fat is empowering, like reclaiming the word queer (although you should ask people what term they prefer). But they don’t appreciate ignorant comments from random strangers like, “Why don’t you join a gym?” (They probably already do), or “Lay off the burgers and fries,” or “Keep eating those salads and you’ll lose those pounds” (Maybe this burger is the only thing I’ve eaten today, or maybe I just like salad, I’m not trying to lose weight). One blogger, Dances With Fat, calls going out a “Public Display of Fatness,” during which a fat person can be subjected to all kinds of unhelpful and insulting advice from folks who can’t just mind their own beeswax.

When will we finally admit that you can’t tell anything about someone just by looking at their body?

You don’t know if they are happy or sad, active or lazy, if they love their body or hate it, if they wish they had a different body or enjoy their body and their life just the way they are. Actually, it’s none of our business.

At the first Love Your Body workshop last spring, one of the students suggested a new rule about bodies: “No commenting on bodies without joy, love, and praise for life.” In other words, no snark.

Can you see what’s genuinely beautiful in your friend who’s gained weight? Can you praise your fat friend’s radiance and glow? Can you be joyful about your skinny friend’s body, and the bodies of all shapes and sizes of those you love? Every body you see houses a person’s dreams, hopes, wisdom, joy, and sorrow. Look for what’s good in them, what’s right and lovely. No one needs our snarkiness… is that really what we want to put out there into the world? But lots of people need our love and acceptance. Including ourselves.

What the Heck is Intuitive Eating, Anyway?

Today I’m excited to share with you an interview with the amazing Golda Poretsky. Golda is a certified holistic health counselor and founder of Body Love Wellness, a wellness company that provides individual and group counseling from a Health At Every Size perspective. Via her blog, podcast, and counseling programs, she helps women and men throughout the country get off the dieting roller coaster, give their bodies what they really crave, and love their bodies and themselves. Golda's programs and activism work have been featured on CBS's The Early Show, ABC's Nightline, NBC's LX New York and Time Out New York. She is also author of Stop Dieting Now: 25 Reasons To Stop, 25 Ways To Heal, available in softcover, Kindle, and Nook.

SPECIAL OFFER: As a special gift for lucky readers, Golda is gifting a free Food Mood Transformation Session to the first 5 Finding Fullness readers who sign up. This is your chance to talk to Golda about any struggles you’re having with food and body image, and get some real solutions for moving forward. To sign up for your free session, go to http://www.bodylovewellness.com/findingfullness/.

1. Briefly, Golda, what is intuitive eating?

Intuitive eating is a practice of listening to your body's food desires and feelings of hunger and fullness, and making food choices based on those indicators.

2. How has eating intuitively affected your own life?

Oh, gosh. It's affected my life in so many ways. But I think the hugest impact of intuitive eating is emotional. I was a lifelong dieter until I found intuitive eating. I was always on a diet, and when I wasn't, I was stressing about whether I should or not. But now, I don't spend my days stressing about food, what I'm going to eat, what I can eat, what I can't eat. I don't count points or calories or carbs or fat grams. I just eat good food that I like, and I pay attention to my hunger and fullness. It's a really peaceful place to be.

3. What are the first steps someone who wants to learn to eat intuitively can take?

Truthfully, the best place to start is uncovering your "food rules." Most of us have rules that we've carried with us from past diets, and often they conflict. We see ourselves as "being good" when we stick to our rules and "being bad" when we don't. So it's important to get a lot of clarity on what our beliefs are around food and begin to let go of them, so that we can hear our inner wisdom.

4. How can intuitive eating help someone who sometimes over- or under-eats?

Because bingeing and restricting really aren't about the food, using intuitive eating tools can allow someone who binges or restricts to begin to get clarity on her/his emotional reality. That's really a key component of intuitive eating -- it gives you the space to acknowledge your emotional hunger as well as your physical hunger.

5. Why is intuitive eating better than dieting?

Dieting is incredibly detrimental. We're sold a lie that diets and weight loss are healthy and good for us, and that lie couldn't be further from the truth. In my book, Stop Dieting Now, I give 25 reasons to stop dieting, so it's hard to pick just one. But the main reason why intuitive eating is better than dieting is that diets impose a set of rules on the dieter that has nothing to do with that dieter. Your diet doesn't care if you're having a long, stressful day or an easy day at home. Your diet doesn't care if it's the summer in Southern Florida or the winter in Alaska. No matter what, you have to make choices based on that diet, not on what you want or need. Intuitive eating allows you to learn to listen to your body and trust that your body will direct you toward the nutrition you need.

6. What further resources would you recommend for someone who would like to step onto the path of intuitive eating?

I would highly recommend Linda Bacon's book: Health At Every Size, The Surprising Truth About Your Weight. It's a great way to learn the principles of intuitive eating while also learning why it's a good idea. There are lots of books on intuitive eating that may be more familiar to your readers, but I wouldn't recommend them because they talk about intuitive eating as a weight loss tool, which it isn't. Some people lose weight from intuitive eating and some don't, and I find that those who don't lose weight think they're doing it wrong. In other words, it becomes another diet that they feel they've failed at, which defeats the whole purpose!

I think it's also important to get help with this process. When you've suffered from disordered eating for years, usually reading a few books and blogs isn't going to do the trick. There are real issues to be worked through, and it's important to get support.

7. Thank you so much for sharing your wisdom with us, Golda! I hope lots of readers take advantage of your resources and experience. Blessings!

Love Your Body Blog Part 44

Diet is “Die” with a “T”: Love Your Body Blog Part 43

You know what my body really hates? Diets. My best friend/body thinks diets stink, and doesn’t understand why I would ever force myself to suddenly and drastically change what I eat. Plus, she reminds me, I’ve tried diets before and they never, ever work, so there.

Why does my body hate dieting? Let’s ask her:

Hey Body, what’s the big deal? Why does the word “diet” get your panties all tied up in a knot?

1. Oh hon, where do I start? First off, when you listen to a diet, you’re not listening to ME. You’re ignoring my needs in favor of listening to somebody you’ve never met, who doesn’t care about your body, and who is probably just trying to get you to buy their book or pay an arm and a leg for their “guaranteed” system. The only thing that’s guaranteed is you’ll feel too humiliated to ask for a refund!

2. When you go on a diet, you’re treating me like I’m a dress size or a number on the scale. I am so much more than that, and you know it.

3. You only feel good if I’ve lost weight, and you’re pissed at me if you don’t.

4. When you go on a diet, you throw down the gauntlet. You declare war on me. I have no choice but to protect myself with cravings, hunger, and fatigue. I hate feeling like we’re not on the same side. I need you to love me and take care of me, respect me and adore me, not call me names and starve me. I want to support you too. Can’t we just all get along?

5. I like the size I’m at right now. I feel comfortable and healthy here. When you go on a diet, you’re trying to turn me into something I’m not; a tiny size zero. Can we just be realistic here? I am not meant to be a size zero. Not now, not ever. Not for diet pills, or liposuction, or gastric bypass surgery. I will never voluntarily be a size zero or anything close to it, and if you insist otherwise, we will have a problem.

My best friend/body sounds like she means business, doesn’t she? Trust me, you do not want to mess with her. When she’s taken care of, she’s all sweet pussycat, cuddle and purr, but if you threaten her, the claws come out!

Okay, Body, so how is dieting different from what we’re doing now, which is not eating sugar? (…I’ve given up most forms of sugar for almost two years now.) Couldn’t you say we’re on a sugar-free diet?

Eww! No way. I feel like we’re on a sugar-free fi-es-ta! But seriously, first of all, there’s no calorie restriction. You don’t leave me feeling hungry all the time.

Secondly, we agreed together that not eating sugar was a good idea. You were feeling tired a lot and started to notice that sugar made you crabby and crash out. We both feel way better without it, with lots more energy to have fun and get stuff done.

Thirdly, it’s NO BIG DEAL. If you feed me a little bit of sugar, there’s no failure, we just deal with it and move on. There’s no punishment and no anger.

Fourth, it’s not tied to my appearance or weight. The decision to eat less sugar was based on how you feel, not on what I look like. That’s the kind of change I can get behind.

Finally, you gave up sugar out of love for me, not out of unhappiness or disgust. Giving up sugar feels like devotion instead of deprivation. We’re increasing our level of love, trust, and understanding instead of undermining it. It’s as different as cats and… peanut butter.

Well, Body, say someone wants to change their eating habits to feel healthier, how would you recommend they go about it?

1. Change one small thing at a time, like eating more vegetables or less processed food, incorporating it over the course of a month or longer, until it becomes a habit. Only add another change once you and your body feel confident with the first.

2. Get your body’s buy in. Ask your body if it feels good about this change, and listen to your body’s answer. Give it veto power. If your body says it won’t work, it won’t, believe me!

3. Do it out of love for your body, not out of wanting to change your body or thinking there’s something wrong with your body. I speak for all bodies when I say, love the one you’re with!

What wisdom (or humor) does your body have to share about dieting? Let your body do the talking!

Love Your Body Blog Part 42: Eat Like a Goddess

Years ago I asked my yoga students, “How would you treat yourself differently if you believed you were divine?” After class one student told me with a laugh, “If I believed I was divine, I wouldn’t eat standing up over the counter.” I agreed; if I believed I was divine, I wouldn’t eat behind the wheel of my car.

Can you imagine Aphrodite slurping down a veggie sandwich leaning over the kitchen counter (it would totally mess up her hair, and her toga… do you know how much the dry cleaning bills are for those things?), or Athena chowing down on a carnitas asada burrito behind the wheel of her convertible PT Cruiser? Seriously, the burrito is less believable than the car.

How would a goddess eat? Definitely sitting down. Preferably with servants waving palm fronds, serving peeled grapes… sorry, got a little carried away. How about with a single flower in the center of the table, a lovely glass of water with lemon, a freshly prepared dish in front of her with a seasonal variety of colors, textures, and flavors? As she settles into her chair she takes a moment to enjoy the beauty of the food in front of her. As her eyes take in the rich hues, she imagines the farms the vegetables came from, the sun shining on them, the rain moistening their roots, the nimble bees who pollinated each flower, and the hands that tended and picked them. She opens her hands around the plate and offers a blessing, “May all those who offer me this meal be blessed. May this food nourish me. May my energy and life honor all beings.”

Then each bite she takes in she sighs and lingers over, enjoying every aspect and sensation of eating. Yum.

At the end of her meal, perhaps in the company of other smiling goddesses (and gods), she leans back in her seat, feeling full and sated.

Why don’t we eat like goddesses? We’re busy. We’re tired. We have little ones to feed and laundry to do. We don’t feel entitled to really sit down and enjoy a meal.

But really, could you eat like a goddess once a day? How about once a week? Plan a goddess lunch with a friend, or make yourself a goddess meal. When you’re planning a meal or going out to eat, ask yourself, “What does my inner goddess want to eat?”

My inner goddess loves:

Eating outside, at a café patio, or in my own garden

A carafe of water at the table

Sweet red peppers (probably because they’re seasonal and pricey!)

Figs and berries

Leafy salads with Goddess dressing (c’mon, what did you expect?)

Finger foods like spring rolls

Curried vegetables, daal and rice

Asparagus, avocado, and artichokes

Sauteed greens

Flowers, yes even in the food

A sweet blessing

Anything prepared with love and creativity

My inner goddess also likes to eat slowly and in the company of good friends (even if they’re flowers). Listen to your inner goddess and let her teach you how to eat with great mindfulness and enjoyment. To nourish her, ask her what she needs, what she loves, and feed it to her. Slowly and with great love.

What does your inner goddess love?