Is it really 19th January already? I've given up the idea of New Year's resolutions and have instead resolved to keep an open mind and look for small truths, encouragements and challenges on a daily basis. Besides, I think I prefer the idea of having a couple of things in mind that I want to achieve this year, which is more attainable. I think I've mentioned learning to tango already and the other was to discover how to play poker. Not that I want to start a gambling habit you understand but I just fancy the challenge. I wonder if there is a way of combining the two activities? Now that would be interesting......
I've just been reading an article by Eve Ensler (author of The Vagina Monologues). She has written a new play The Good Body and as part of her research visited over 40 countries to interview women on their attitude to their bodies. A poignant comment made by Leah a Masai woman was this: 'In America, your bodies are just pictures to you, here we live in our bodies they do our work' Leah also had some sound advice for those moments of self hatred that we all experience. 'There are no ugly trees. You don't go around saying "That tree is prettier than that tree" You're a tree, I'm a tree, we're all trees; you've got to love your tree.' I'm going to try and remember that next time I'm hating my thighs because I think they look like tree trunks...
During the course of Christmas dinner I found out that my Dad can dance the tango (it's something I want to learn in 2006). He didn't give me a demonstration as his hip was playing up, but it made me think.
Over the past couple of years dealing with the realization of the adverse affect some aspects of my family background has had on my development, I have forgotten the positives. Some of my gifts and talents I owe to my Dad. I am glad to have the creative streak that I possess and some of that has to be from his side of the family. This doesn't mean that I feel a sudden closeness to him, the road to an easy intimacy is a long one and I'm not sure yet whether I can travel it but when I am next caught in the turmoil of my family's below surface dysfunctionality, I can at least honour my father by remembering that he was once passionate enough about life to dance the tango.
