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I am stepping off the capitalist treadmill. I am going to take a deep breath and find a way to survive not being flat or perfect. I am inviting you to join me, to stop trying to be anything, anyone other than who you are. I was moved by women in Africa who lived close to the earth and didn’t understand what it meant to not love their body. I was lifted by older women in India who celebrated their roundness. I was inspired by Marion Woodman, a great Jungian analyst, who gave me confidence to trust what I know. She has said that “instead of transcending ourselves, we must move into ourselves.” Tell the image makers and magazine sellers and the plastic surgeons that you are not afraid. That what you fear the most is the death of imagination and originality and metaphor and passion. Then be bold and LOVE YOUR BODY. STOP FIXING IT. It was never broken.
Sounds rather painful.........StillILearn said:I also checked The Good Body (Eve Ensler) out of the library, and put it into my car CD player on the way to Carson City today. My thirty-five year-old daughter became so uncomfortable with Ensler's description of lesbian nipple-piercing that I had to push the stop button. I guess I'll have to listen to the rest when she's not in the car.
Exerpt from: The Good Body
pontalba said:Sounds rather painful.........
steffee said:Ask Pontalba to lend you some Breaca!
The book fairy? What a good idea, maybe he could visit me lol
steffee said:Ask Pontalba to lend you some Breaca!
The book fairy? What a good idea, maybe he could visit me lol
Umm, Excuse Me you guys!Breaca said:You have to be a very good girl for the elusive book fairy to visit.
As for Pontalba lending me some bookshelves.... Sounds like fighting talk to me. Now that her new ones have arrived I doubt very much if she'll part with them anytime soon.
Oh wow, books from your great-grandfather, how cool!pontalba said:The Odyssey I've been threatening to read it for years, and finally someone called me on it. My excuse has always been, oh, I can't take a chance on getting something icky (like potato 'crisps', or chocolate (which I have btw given up due to Arthritis Pains), or coffee, or tea stains) on it. After all the books were my great-grandfathers, and I don't want to muck them up.