Sunday, July 27, 2014
I have always dreamed of being one of those girls with a flat stomach. When bare midriff's came around, I tried to stand up straight and suck in. Luckily I didn't delve head first into belly button baring blouses because I am not one of those girls. My belly is not flat.
My dad used to call me Beluga Belly when I was wee tyke. I had great belly-pushing-out abilities and I was an adorable super white color.
As I got older, I got into sports and exercising. And being super short, I naturally tried to stand up straighter, and it might have stretched my round little belly a little bit. But not enough for flat stomach status. So a good long 20-something years of loathing the soft middle.
So then a week ago I went to a yoga retreat. (I am a middle class white girl - I like yoga, photography, traveling and cooking, ethnic food and organic farmer's markets. I'm WHITE). So the teacher was telling us to inhale into our bellys. And I thought, why don't I. Not just a little bit, but all of it. And I did.
And I kicked everyone's big breathing asses. And it didn't feel like this section of my body that I like to reprimand and occasionally give stern advice to. It became part of my ability. I can super deep breathe.
And that is cool.