Reinventing...what?

  My friend asked a simple question after reading the last entry "how are you reinventing yourself?"  To which my mind responded "Shit...that seems like an awfully big word for what I'm doing!"  So, I may not be reinventing, just changing.  A lot of the change, I realized, isn't even necessarily outward.  I want to change how I view the things I do, and WHY I do them.  Even if the actions remain the same, a change in motive might make a big difference.
  
    I would like to have a greener home/lifestyle but not out of guilt, I want to be doing it because I feel better that way.  I want to finally begin my Priestess training, but not because I think I have to, just because I want to and I enjoy it.  I will be going to temple, rituals, and gatherings but not because I feel like a 'bad little pagan' if I don't, but because I love the energy felt there and the lingering peace I feel after.

And the one I know I will struggle with the most, but will fight to do, is eat healthy and exercise more because my body feels better and runs better when I do, NOT to try and loose weight.  I am going to try to accept that my body is not unhealthy because of the extra few pounds I carry from having my daughter, and that I am not a failure for not 'bouncing back' in the time limit I had given myself.  I want to be healthy and active, and if the result is looking better that is great, but if that is my only motivation I think I will be eternally disappointed.  I tell so many mothers to be proud of the bodies for the amazing things it has done, to wear their stretch marks with pride, and shakes those beautiful new hips, but I have been completely incapable of doing any of this.  This will probably be my biggest struggle.  I have made this poem my background on my computer along with a beautiful painting of three women with full and gorgeous bodies.  It's a start...



I am large in my skin
I make no apology
This belly grew a baby
Why should it be flat?
It curves with the memory of the womb.
These breasts fed a baby
Why should they be pert?
They swell with the memory of milk.
These hips carried a child
Why should they be slim?
They are full with the memory of life.
My bones are secret under flesh
My skin plump and white and fine
Mine is the face of Botticelli
Mine is the water of the Nile
Mine is the shape of things forbidden
Daughter of Gaia, grown beautiful and wild.

~ Lorri Barrier