Friday, February 13, 2009

Currator of Me

I look in my closet and I see rows of clothes that belong to somebody else. Somebody with a different shape, somebody younger, somebody more professional and flamboyant. These are the clothes in the Museum of Me, circa 1995 to 2005, and I am the curator. They don't fit my size and shape these days, and yet I can't part with them. The current wisdom is to let go of what no longer serves; that's an important step in accepting the Me that is Here and Now.


I get that. It's true I haven't gotten totally zen with my current shape. The picture I posted on Facebook dates back to my Museum Me days. Still, the Here and Now Me feels like giving away all those museum artifacts is tantamount to giving up hope that I'll ever reconnect with the True Me, the one I'm hiding under this fat facade.


This Fat Lady role must be serving me somehow, since I've been hanging onto it for some two-and-a-half years now. It started, ironically, when I read a book called Overcoming Overeating. The book advocates letting yourself eat whatever you want, as a means of reconnecting with your body's real wants and needs. My eating habits had been dictated by the latest diet ~ and then blowing it ~ since I was seven, so it was safe to say that my body and I had some catching up to do.


Then my husband broke his leg, which became seriously infected and required six surgeries over nine months to heal. My retail store was failing despite putting my heart and soul into it. It was a stressful and emotional time, to say the least. Eating whatever the hell I wanted seemed only fair, given all this other stuff that seemed far beyond my control.


So I put on a few (thirty) pounds, but I wasn't really worried. I stayed active, took my Amazon Herbs, and it felt nurturing to honor what my body craved for comfort. It was the first time I'd really listened, really given in to 'whatever.' So I understand how I got here.


The deal was, however, that the weight was supposed to come off naturally as I began to reconnect with the true wants and needs of my healthy body. And that hasn't happened yet. Why not? My husband's leg healed, and the store folded long ago. I have a profitable business with no overhead. My chidren are well and thriving. I have a lovely roof over my head. I do eat healthy foods, and I exercise regularly. I've done all kinds of emotional healing work to address the underlying issues.


Truly, I don't feel like a fat person anymore. When I see myself in my dreams, it's the Museum Me that I see. When I catch a glimpse of the Here and Now Me in the bathroom mirror, I gasp in horror.


So what do I still gain from this hiding myself away? Caroline Myss talks about the Dark Night of the Soul as that time when you suddenly realize all that you have to let go in order to reconnect with the Divine. Letting go of the prayers like "please keep everyone I love safe and for nothing bad ever to happen." Saying "Let go and let God" and mean it.

This weight on me is just that: a weight on me. I've asked to reconnect fully with the Divine, and yet I'm a little scared of what that might mean. I'm not sure I'm ready to say 'bring on my destiny, I'm ready, no matter what.' The extra weight is like a life preserver around my middle. I'm cool with that. For now.

1 comment:

  1. Can't a more 'rounded' version of the Museum Me be the right me????

    You look Marvleous Darling!!!! The more to love!

    Hugs from your 'very round' Sister-in-law!

    ReplyDelete

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