An Invincible Summer - A Woman's Journey

As a young girl I used to leave my body. I could fly.  I had forgotten this fact until the Boy Scout brought it up awhile back. He, too, could leave his body. I am not quite sure what it was, perhaps just a vivid imagination, but I remember flying down the street and the feeling of swaying back and forth using my tiny feet quite like fish tail. I remember that strange floaty feeling in my stomach from rising and dropping back down and also the wind in my hair, which wasn't very long at the time. In addition to the physical sensations, I remember being very present, noticing details that I wouldn't normally notice. Bird s , squirrels and bugs stood out, as well as shapes of trees and colors of houses and the sky. I feel like I saw beauty everywhere. How could I have possibly forgotten these experiences? It felt kind of Peter Pan-ish, wonderful to revisit something I did fairly regularly for a short period of time. Since we both did it, I wondered.....did you ever leave...

I hate my body...sometimes. The boyish figure, buying bras and bathing suits for non-existent boobs, the way it does whatever it wants despite my prodding and cajoling. I dislike the sudden roundness of my abdomen even though the weight hasn't changed. With age has come; slack to the once taut and supple skin, crow’s feet and let's not even talk about the neck. My body laughs at me and my mistakes. It says, "Why didn't you appreciate me when you could? Even when your strength was at its peak, when the aches were few and far between, you still found reasons to be unhappy." Frequent uproars....when I exercise too hard, eat food it decides is not appropriate for us or simply ask it to do something that was once so easy. An all over profound dryness reminds me that we are aging. I need drops for my eyes, chew gum for dry mouth, require continuous applications if lotion on my skin. Those are the emotions I have when the societal pressures of looking and being perfec...