This past week, my Relief Society decided to this activity on Recapturing Beauty. It was a campaign that was held at BYU this past fall, and one of the ladies who helped run it is in my ward. Due to a glitch (my name was never added to the RS mailing list), I didn't get the email (and thus all the info) until a few days after our women started it. I finally had a chance to look at all of the stuff yesterday before heading to the official activity. I decided that I wanted to start the 10-day challenge today, and that I wanted to blog about my experience with the challenge instead of privately journaling it.
The idea behind the challenge is that as women we have been told what beauty is and that we constantly don't measure up to its standards. This is a lie. All women have the potential to be beautiful, but we have to work at it: it's on the inside, and in order to be beautiful, we have to believe that we are.
The first challenge is to write for at least ten minutes to express your gratitude for all the things your body allows you to do. Additionally, you are not allowed to weigh yourself for the 10 days of the challenge.
Why I am grateful for my body...
I feel like lately I talk about my cancer too much...perhaps that is because I am surrounded by people who didn't know the story...but when I think about my body I am constantly grateful that I have one to do things with. It could have been much worse. That said, I still struggle. Thus, the challenge.
My body allows me to move. I can sit up on my own. I can dress myself, bathe myself, comb my hair, put on makeup, type, turn pages, jump, run, walk, dance, see, taste, smell, touch, feel. I can do yoga. My body gives me freedom...freedom to go places and do things. Freedom to live my life. My body alerts me when I am tired...it lets me know when I need to rest. It tells me when I've taken on too much. It reminds me to slow down.
My body houses my spirit, which allows me to be here. It houses my organs (although I'm missing a few things...tonsils, my appendix, and that pesky left ovary). It contains my eyes, which allow me to see (with some help, of course...bad eyesight runs in the family). My body contains vocal cords which allow me to speak. My body contains tear ducts which allow me to express my tears when I need to. My body continues to do the things it needs to in order for me to someday have children. My body houses my brain which still functions, thus allowing me to use my body...and to think...and to know who people are...my great-great-aunt is currently losing the battle to Alzheimer's (as did my Papa before her) and her body does not work the way it should...mine still does.
My body grows hair. Granted, I shave my legs, and shape my eyebrows, but I have hair on my head and I have eyelashes. Those have protective values.
My body allows me to feel pain so that I can understand the joy of not having any....my body allows me to feel cold so that I can enjoy warmth. My body allows me to move in a range of motions I will never fully comprehend until I lose the ability to move in that way someday.
My body has flaws...it has scars...but those flaws and scars are evidence that my body IS. They show the struggles that my body has faced...they are evidence of what I have faced...they show my strength.
Why are you grateful for your body?
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