-the body depicted-the young and the old-Abha writes:
I did this simple drawing to illustrate how the body changes over time from full curves to droops, and how we have to accept the changes and love ourselves as we are, as we change. We may not always be happy with the change. Growing into full blooded womanhood is exciting but not easy, and the change from that to the freckles and spots and sag of old age is even more difficult. We have to accept one fact alone, we can never be divorced from our body. We have to love it, nurture it, accept it and grow into it, even as it grows unyielding and difficult. The realization that 'this is me', this body is an integral part of me, is the first step to love.
I have had difficulty in accepting changes in my body~ when I was pregnant, during times of illness, as I grow older, yet, I have always loved it. it is not perfect, it is mine. It survives and carries on with life.
I have had difficulty in accepting changes in my body~ when I was pregnant, during times of illness, as I grow older, yet, I have always loved it. it is not perfect, it is mine. It survives and carries on with life.
This Body Is Me
This body, my lover
Who stays with me when all else leaves
In whatever shape it may be
It will never let go till the end.
This body, whom I have loved,
Sometimes nurtured and often ignored
So taken for granted
Till it said, I grow weary of you.
I am heavy, creaky, disjointed, painful,
Yet I am supporting you.
I grow weary with you.
I see the body that I love
That loves me
Tire of being filled with me.
Yet we trudge on
We have no choice.
We live with each other, with a certain fondness
Knowing just where it hurts and where
We can still find joy.
© ABHA IYENGAR, 27th December 2010
This body, my lover
Who stays with me when all else leaves
In whatever shape it may be
It will never let go till the end.
This body, whom I have loved,
Sometimes nurtured and often ignored
So taken for granted
Till it said, I grow weary of you.
I am heavy, creaky, disjointed, painful,
Yet I am supporting you.
I grow weary with you.
I see the body that I love
That loves me
Tire of being filled with me.
Yet we trudge on
We have no choice.
We live with each other, with a certain fondness
Knowing just where it hurts and where
We can still find joy.
© ABHA IYENGAR, 27th December 2010
