F is for Form

Just a small celebration of bodies and what they quietly do for us.

After watching The Soloist yesterday, I realised that if I really want to write, I may need to start voice-noting my thoughts instead of waiting to sit neatly at my keyboard.

Because thoughts rarely arrive neatly or timeously. This train arrived while I was falling asleep.

I saw a post recently that said: “Your body is the least interesting thing about you.”

I kind of get it, we spend so much time obsessing over bodies; what they look like, how much space they take up, how they compare, whether they are desirable, disciplined, shrinking, ageing, toned, soft, acceptable. And yet bodies tell us so little. Sure, you might learn about someone’s fitness regime, bad habits or past mishaps. But they rarely teach us anything about a person’s humour, grief, generosity, courage, faith, loyalty, creativity or character.

At least not at first glance.

Although… the more I thought about it, the more I wondered whether bodies are also wildly underappreciated.

The other day I was walking my beautiful Bailey boy. He’s getting a little chubbs, but still athletic. Whenever he launches himself over the rocks on the beach and, these days, the puddles on the golf course, I cheer him on with a “Whoa! What an athlete!”

Anyway, he was power-walking ahead of me and I was, of course, keeping up effortlessly when I laughed and said to him: “We’re fat-fit the two of us”. Naturally, this turned into a song because almost everything becomes a song with him but I digress.

And for the rest of the walk I noticed everyone else differently too. People going for a run or enjoying a walk, just moving. Different shapes. Different sizes. Different ages. Using their bodies, enjoying the movement and what they’re able to do.

I was reminded to be grateful for movement. For my knees that mostly cooperate, and my pneumonia surviving lungs that fill. For tree trunk legs, that should belong to a prop, that carry me. For the ability to move without significant pain or discomfort. Even if that gratitude isn’t obvious just by looking at me.

My mom and I go to Aqua Aerobics every week. Her physiotherapist recommended it because it’s gentle on the joints. We have a new instructor who looks like the complete opposite of “fat fit” but absolutely destroys us with his workouts. After class last week I asked him about the jacket he was wearing. It had the name of a dance company on it and I was obviously curious.

Sadly the company is no more but he told me a little bit about when they started in Rustenburg and how they used dance at different schools, to encourage students and share stories of faith and hope through movement. And I loved that.

Using dance, using movement, using their bodies to serve, encourage and connect.

And then there’s one of my favourite people in the world currently growing an entire human being inside her body. Every week the baby is compared to a new fruit or vegetable and whoa, isn’t it incredible! An avocado, a sweet potato, a mango.

A body growing another body. It’s completely ordinary, yet completely miraculous.

So perhaps bodies are the least interesting thing about us.

But perhaps they are also among the most wonderful.

Not because of how they look.
But because of what they allow us to do. I just wanted to have a conversation celebrate bodies a little. Not perfect bodies. Not even aspirational bodies.
Just bodies. Lived in bodies.

So tell me:
What has your body done for you lately?

Or maybe the better question is:
What have you done for your body lately?

I can’t wait for you to share.

Until then,

F is for Farewell