Same Body, Second Glance: Day Twenty-Nine

July 29, 2014

This evening I sit on the back steps, listen to the hum of the locusts, watch the sun fading to pink behind the blue hills.  I push two fingers into my throat and feel the steady throb of my pulse in the jugular … rhythm old as time.  

My choices have been hard on my heart.  The long years of starvation have taxed that quiet muscle in my chest, I know.  And still it keeps ticking for me.  It has given me ten years, more, since I made the decision to live.  Today I am overwhelmed by that goodness, for the decade of photos in the album.  I have been unkind to my body, and it has been profoundly generous and forgiving with me.

Hum of the locusts in the trees.  Hum of the blood in my veins.  I will learn to listen to this rhythm with love and gratitude.

I will be generous with all of myself. ❤

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{{Wondering what’s going on here??  Almost a year ago, I found myself on bad terms with the person in the mirror.  So I made a commitment:  every day for forty days, I’d take *one* photograph of my body that I could honestly see as beautiful.  Want to follow my journey?  Start here.}}