The art of me.
I have lines, I have scars, and I have chunky thighs. They tell the story of me.
My story isn’t right or wrong, how could a story be wrong? It is perfect as it is, as all true art is–singular and flawless.
I reject wholeheartedly the idea that I need to erase my stories in order to be healthy. Or that I need to look different to please someone else, that my size is a measure of my value.
That if I am fat, I am shameful. That if I am thin, I am virtuous.
That kind of binary thinking is irrelevant, it has no place in the art that is me.
I am perfect the way I am, I don’t need to change anything.
The science of the human body.
There is more diabetes today than ever before, more heart disease, more cancer.
So much misery, so much sickness.
We know what causes these things–it’s our diets.
Saturated fat, refined sugar. Added chemicals, hormones, environmental toxins. Each has a direct and measurable effect on our health.
What we put into our bodies matters. Our destiny is at the end of our forks.
There may be a study here or there that attempts to cloud the issue, but in general, the information is there to be found:
There is a way to eat that promotes disease, and a way that prevents disease.
Where they meet.
Art and science meet in me.
Jung has a term for this that I love, it’s called “the tension of the opposites.”
When two opposing forces are held within a container, what happens?
The container is transformed. Something new is created. This is the tradition of alchemy.
So, metaphorically, I am the container here.
(And I am also literally the container. I can be transformed, every cell of me, by how I nourish myself.)
I don’t have to choose one pole or the other. I can create something new from both.
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