(no subject)
Saturday, July 22, 2006
because we are all beautiful
" The body is like an earth. It is a land unto itself. It is vulnerable to overbuilding, being carved into parcels, cut off, overmined, and shorn of its power as any landscape. The wilder woman will not be easily swayed by redevelopment schemes. For her, the questions are not how to form but how to feel. The breast in all its shapes has the function of feeling and feeding. Does it feed? Does it feel? It is a good breast.
The hips, they are wide for a reason, inside them is a satiny ivory cradle for new life. A woman's hips are outriggers for the body above and below; they are portals, they are a lush cushion, the handholds for love, a place for children to hide behind. The legs, they are meant to take us, sometimes to propel us; they are the pulleys that help us life, they are anillo, the ring for encircling a lover. They cannot be too this or too that. They are what they are.
There is no "suppose to be" in bodies. The question is not size of shape or years of age, or even having two of everything, for some do not. But the wild issue is, doe this body feel, does it have the right connection to pleasure, to heart, to soul, to the wild? Does it have happiness, joy? Can it in its own way move, dance, jiggle, sway, thrust? Nothing else matters."
Women Who Run With Wolves
because we are all beautiful
" The body is like an earth. It is a land unto itself. It is vulnerable to overbuilding, being carved into parcels, cut off, overmined, and shorn of its power as any landscape. The wilder woman will not be easily swayed by redevelopment schemes. For her, the questions are not how to form but how to feel. The breast in all its shapes has the function of feeling and feeding. Does it feed? Does it feel? It is a good breast.
The hips, they are wide for a reason, inside them is a satiny ivory cradle for new life. A woman's hips are outriggers for the body above and below; they are portals, they are a lush cushion, the handholds for love, a place for children to hide behind. The legs, they are meant to take us, sometimes to propel us; they are the pulleys that help us life, they are anillo, the ring for encircling a lover. They cannot be too this or too that. They are what they are.
There is no "suppose to be" in bodies. The question is not size of shape or years of age, or even having two of everything, for some do not. But the wild issue is, doe this body feel, does it have the right connection to pleasure, to heart, to soul, to the wild? Does it have happiness, joy? Can it in its own way move, dance, jiggle, sway, thrust? Nothing else matters."
Women Who Run With Wolves