Thursday, June 20, 2013

Exposing myself....

"When I was littler … fresher… tender … less … not as mature as I am today… there are so many ways to try and say younger but really I am only balking from that word because I don’t believe it means unknowing, less wise… and to admit that I “struggled with anorexia when I was young” and to connect youth with that seemingly unnatural act is to imply that “now I know better… am cured… have recovered” … not true. 

I am recovered but I still have that scar. The wound is all better but you can still see it. Well I know it’s there and I can show it to you if you like.

Anorexia – the ultimate disconnection. The crazy attempt to control the uncontrollable. The sad, fractured and lonely mindset that this beautiful, crazy, sexy life is somehow not within me but out there trying to act upon me.

Nature was one of the most powerful healing forces in my journey through to self respect, love and appreciation.

Seeing – TRULY SEEING – a world that turned itself upside down (literally) to give me the gift of a sunrise, the flight of a bird, the touch of the rain. This world was not out to get me. So I stopped trying to stay on the tightrope.

I fell… I dropped … and the net was there.

Letting go takes faith. Faith is always rewarded. Faith requires going within and to go within we definitely need to embrace the outer. It’s just a logical step. Nature can be the miraculous mirror that reflects back our worthiness. Existing without judgement to dazzle us every second of every day and night"


This is a comment I recently posted on the blog of an amazing lady called Kelsey. You may know her  from the inspiring place that is  HappyYolks* -  which she shares with the world, enlisting a voice so strong, so authentic and so brave it inspired me to ...  for want of a better phrase... expose myself.

THIS POST in particular had me quietly crying and I felt compelled to add to the list of (supportive) comments. In fact, for quite some time afterwards I was left pondering why her words touched me so deeply. I came to the conclusion that it was because it was as though it was written about me and for me all at once - addressing a topic which we've all heard bandied about from various perspectives and in differing tones. A topic which I'd love to know your thoughts on?

Whilst I never set out to use my blog for the purposes of sharing deeply personal material, it has occurred to me (over time) that it's ALL pretty personal stuff really.

I finished off my comment with the words to an Eddie Vedder song titled "No Ceiling" I'll leave you with the words and I hope that you pop on over and read the post that inspired this one. Then maybe pop on back to tell me what you think.

Thank you gorgeous peoples... I hope you all know how truly beautiful you all are.

No Ceiling

Comes the morning
When I can feel
That there’s nothing
Left to be concealed
Moving on,
a scene surreal
Know my heart will never
Never be far from here
Sure as I’m breathing
Sure as I’m sad
I’ll keep this wisdom
In my flesh
I leave here believing
More than I had
And there’s a reason I’ll be
Reason I’ll be back
As I walk
the hemisphere
Got my wish
to up and disappear
I been wounded
I been healed"


* Kelsey is a very talented writer but her blog does not only evoke the philosophical reader it also tempts the tastebuds ... as is evidenced by the amazing recipes she shares.... like this one!


Wendy said...

Aaah now you see, I shy away from exposing myself too much on blogs. I used to do it but no longer. I just can't, anymore. It's weird - like being wired shut. I'd love to engage more deeply with peeps but I simply cannot. Sometimes I read blog posts that compel me to open up and leave a revealing, heartfelt comment but I always delete it before publishing. You are very brave. And I appreciate your honesty.

Diana Studer said...

13 years ago I had a mastectomy. I now have a cleavage like the sound of one hand clapping, but then I was never curvy and voluptuous, even when I had 2. If I can look to being reasonably fit and healthy when I'm 70ish too - well, that's OK by me.

Liz Rose Bowman said...

Thanks so much for this post. I've been "recovered" for several years but the body, mind, and heart always remember.