Joy in Myself and my Manifesto for my 2020 Body

I will let my lovely round well-fed body, gently roll over the top of my shorts and I will feel sexy and move like a sensual, relaxed and powerful woman. 

I write this at a time when we are indoors a lot. And I’d like you to read and take it in and notice what annoys you and what feels good. I want you to notice where you want to blame me and what supports your world view. I invite you as I invite all my clients to do - to visit the the truth of it all. 

And I would like you to remember - who knows what is good and what is bad? 

Everybody is right only partially.

Tis is my all to action for myself with my body in my new home as a person who is mad about the beach. 

When I was in an imagination/visualisation exercise last week, where I visited my inner mentor in 20 years time, one of the pieces advice that my future self gave me was strong belly, soft and round.

This was interesting to me - of course, as enlightened, body positive and self-liking I am, I still feel shame about my body. 

If you feel yourself about to comment - no but you’re lovely, slim, tall and can carry it off - I invite you to STOP. Let me tell you my story. Listen to your story. Sit with that need to rescue me from myself. I’m telling the truth. A truth that makes me feel a pit in my stomach, a churning in my belly and a rush of disgust up my back. 

There I said it.

I also want you to now that I like myself, that I enjoy my amazing body that takes me on hikes, and cycle rides, swims in the sea, digests and enjoys my food, allows me to taste it, processes alcohol so I get a delightful buzz, stands straight and tall and gives me feedback all the time about sleep and recharge and rest and absorbs Vitamin D like a boss to keep me in good shape.

I know exactly what I need to do to be in really good shape. I live in a town where people are serious about their body and their physical presence. We move and surf and SUP and swim and windsurf and hike and cycle and walk and do yoga in the sun and live in our physical lives. We are lean and tan and active. I know I can do exercise that will change my body and that I can eat food that will enhance my physical efficacy. We all know that. I am in the bell curve, I put my body in small amounts of danger. I get to choose how much movement and food I put in my physical body.

As I write this I can feel myself processing some delightful truths and that it IS time to treat my body like a treasured possession and not a dumping ground for my emotions. It also needs to move.

Strong belly, soft and round.

Delicious nutritious input.

Movement and well-considered output.

Choices.

Honesty.

No reasons.

No excuses. 

Just choices.

Choices to get a trainer. Or not.

Choices to go to therapy. Or not.

Choices to get surgery. Or not.

Choices to get coached. Or not.

Choices to do daily yoga. Or not.

Choices to run up the hill every day. Or not.

Choices to read a book. Or not.

To walk the beach. Or not. 

To read books to help me. Or not. 

Choices to hold my body at this weight. Or not. 

I know exactly what happens and the rise and fall depending on input, output, emotion and age. 

I can run up the hill or I can sit on my sofa. 

I can drink a bottle of wine or a litre of water. 

I can do 10, then 20, then 30, then 40 then 50 sit-ups a day or I can spend 30 minutes on Facebook. 

I have time. Time can be rescued from places.

I can start SUP lessons or I can watch Surfers from Surfers.

Do the work to become my beautiful, fully expressed, fully motile, mobile, well-looked after treasured self.

Elongate my life, or rather, be stronger and physically more capable and lower risk in this life. Right now, this week.

I have drank a lot and I used to smoke and etc… 

So I have risks - risks from young choices, and old choices. Risks from addictions old and current. Risks from lifestyle choices.

Nothing is guaranteed. What is guaranteed is if I make certain changes in my inout and output, changes in the bodywork will magically appear! 

Like my leaning fit Dad says - his friends often congratulate him on how lucky he is with his body.

He comments that yes, he is lucky he cycles, 15 km every week, walks every day, digs the garden, eats deliberately good food, sleeps well and has processes for lowering stress. 

His father before him was also fit and walked regularly, baked bread, had fun with his wife, ate well, gardened.

He died early, in his mid-70s from a stroke, but until that time he was active and well and enjoyed the outdoors and his town. 

He died early but was well until the incident. 

And in the meantime, I will surround myself with images of soft, round women who look like me, a practice I started some years ago. Agile, stretched, smooth, dancing. I will admire the bodies of the lean, athletic or model bodies. Those incredible models, doing their jobs, posing and creating beauty with the other creatives who put together these looks and sartorial vignettes.

I will admire people who make their lives full and expressed and who unapologetically and honestly and without excuses lead their physical lives fully, without shame or shaming. 

I will catch myself in shop windows riding my bike and smile at how nice I look. How broad my body is and long my legs are.

I will wear shorts, really short shorts and I will enjoy the sun on my legs

I will wear tops that are low cut and allow my cleavage to spill forth, admire the freckles that appear and the shades that come through.

I will remember that I am the heaviest I have ever been, the juiciest, the fullest, the biggest booty and the biggest boobs. I will enjoy it while its here, while my appetite allows. I will enjoy my underwear and my curves and rolls. For I know they are mine to choose. 

I will walk the beach in swimsuits and walk like it’s my cat walk. I will notice my shame rise as I compare myself to the tan lean-bodies, well-toned windsurfers and I will giggle to myself - silly me I will say. Silly silly me - you sweet thing. Do you want to start windsurfing every day? Stretching every morning? Yoga each afternoon? If not, hold your head up, stick out your bazookas, relax your belly but not your dignity and enjoy your gorgeous beautiful body as it is, for this is the body you choose, every day, every inout, every output, every delicious morsel, every glass of cool beer, every hike, cycle ride, swim, stretch, movement, walk, trip to the shops, lie-in, sleep, nap, stand up, sit down, every last choice you make every day, every thought, every coaching session, every single step every choice is the one that gives you this body. Every last one. Every choice every day.

I will swim and bathe and wear lovely wraps and throws and delight in my beach wears and wares.

I shall imagine I am Princess Margaret on Mustique.

Matthew Williamson on Ibiza. 

Little Edie in the Hamptons.

Tziporah Salamon in NYC, being snapped by Bill Cunningham.

Oprah in Hawaii

I shall quietly read while listening to birds and watching the changing of the seasons.

I shall write in my diary and give myself the swathes of solitary time that I so value and love. 

I shall look at my love and appreciate every last bit of him.

I shall connect with my dear friends and reach with them 

I shall be one half of the Furuyas and we shall live our loving legend. 

We shall be Iris Murdoch and John Bayley.

John and Yoko.

Paul and Linda.

I shall create my own mythology and my own legend around myself and live a fabulous life on my deck that I shall bedeck with luxury and creativity and wrap myself in a tropical paradise. In a two up two down.

We shall be generous hosts and have gatherings and steep our guests in luxury and fun and music and dance.

We shall talk to our neighbours and say good morning. I shall pay no mind to the voice in my head that tells me they don’t like me sunbathing on my deck. I shall give them more credit than that. I shall have a word with my stupid cliche limiting voice that was handed to me by someone else and I shall be a good neighbour. In a bikini. On my deck. Visible to my neighbours. I am not disgusting. I am a human body. Again - this is just my head talking. I need to humble that bitch.

I will own the beach, each time I walk on it. I shall live my legend. My fantasy. As Valentina puts it. Yes, it’s me, Valentina.

I shall applaud the others who do the same.

Bold, beautiful, expressed, unapologetic. 

I will display myself like the fine active woman that I am.

Come on! Let’s step out of cliches and into these great bodies! Let’s stop putting ourselves down then waiting for others to boost us in this endless cycle of illusion. Get into it! Relax. 

It’s a rainy day. I am surrounded by washing, hanging over my computer.

Yet I am wearing lovely cotton pyjamas with a chinoiserie print, bought in Singapore. I tip this on an enormous computer I invested in a couple of years ago when my lap top died so hard. I imagine I’m an important writer doing important work or a designer. I just finished eggs cooked with cream and spinach and parmesan and mushrooms, a delicious and nutritious feast. I can see the hills in the distance and the clouds and the sliver sky beyond my monitor. I dreamed of this. I dreamed of a light-filled room, with a view from my desk and a walk to the sea. I dreamed this.

And I remind myself to live the dream. 

Humbly and confidently.

Aware of the luck, privilege, lineage, accident of birth and wealth that got me here.

Each delicious step. Luck, truth, choice. Luck, truth, choice.

Every day. 

Choice by choice.

Thought by thought. 

With humility, grace and confidence. 

No programmed, cliched apologies. 

Head high.

Back straight.

Spine.

Relaxed.

Full.

Strong belly, soft and round.