Categories
Crossposts

Time is A-“Waisting”

I just returned from Michigan due to a sudden death in my family. Honestly, there is nothing like an event like this to put things in perspective. Our bodies are so much more than circumference and pounds. They are literally vessels for our spirit and allow us to hold, hug, support and love each other in THIS realm. I don’t typically blog about my spiritual beliefs and I won’t start now. But one thing I know for certain, face-to-face, eye-to-eye, hug-to-hug contact disappears when someone dies.

Our bodies are miraculous. They give us the capacity to touch…and only for such a relatively short time. My brother-in-law was only 65. And for the few troll-y folks out there who read my blog and constantly question my assertion that fat does not always equal unhealthy, no, he was not fat, so you will have to get your data elsewhere.

He was someone whose body provided warmth and comfort to his wife and tickles to his grandchildren. His hands were magical and his woodworking projects will be around for years to come. His arms hugged his family with a strength that was invincible and nurtured them without hesitation.

What does your body do? What does your body allow you to provide for the loved ones in your life? There is NOT enough time for us to waste it away hating ourselves for what our bodies look like. Really…think about it.

By Dr. Deah Schwartz

Dr. Deah Schwartz, clinician, educator, and author specializes in Expressive Arts Therapies, Eating Disorders and Body Image. Deah is the Co Author of the NAAFA award winning Off-Broadway Play, Leftovers, and its companion DVD/Workbook Set. An outspoken “New Yawker,” Deah believes that it is everyone’s responsibility to point out and eliminate size discrimination even when it means battling the mainstream media, and even worse, family members! To find out more about Dr. Deah’s work or to book a session visit her website at www.drdeah.com

14 replies on “Time is A-“Waisting””

OH Cesy, I so understand what you mean!  I wrote a blog post last year about a close friend of mine who went to visit her mom in the hospital after she had a stroke.  She went cross country, interrupted her life to be with her mom and the first thing her mom mentioned was that she needed to lose some weight.  Something is VERY VERY wrong with the priorities in this world, and there is a great deal of work to be done! Thanks for writing!

Warmly,

Dr. Deah

This post made me tear up. I lost a loved one about a month ago, and it’s been very hard. And you’re right, the physical ability to touch someone, body to body, is a hard thing to lose, and one I miss very much.

I am also, semi-coincidentally, rereading the Harry Potter series, so I kind of want to talk about JK Rowling’s quote up there, but I’ll save it for another time.

Thanks Bryn,  and CherriSpryte, I’m sorry for the delay in responding, I wasn’t receiving comment notifications and I just figured out this system.  (It’s different from other places where I post my writings).  I would love to hear your thoughts about JK Rowling’s quote!

Warmly,

Dr. Deah

Well, essentially, that quote was said in response to the criticism that, in her books, there are far more “evil” characters described as fat/stout/immense than there are “good” characters. There are SOME, but – anyway, I really ought to turn this into a post, but basically, if we’re looking for heroes of Fat Acceptance (and when aren’t we?!) JK Rowling isn’t quite on my list.

I agree with you about that especially the way she depicts Harry’s aunt, uncle, and cousin.  I had a very difficult time with that when I was reading the books to my son! It’s funny how I didn’t put the two together when I read the quote…I was just so happy to read such a “truism.”  I wonder how she makes peace with the incongruity?

Warmly,

Dr. Deah

My parents drove 3 hours to support me at my brother-in-laws funeral. Chocolate Monster was on 17, so while death is never easy, that was a hard one. The first thing my Dad said to me “Oh you’re looking good”. Code= you’ve lost some weight. That wasn’t really what I’d wanted to hear at a funeral, thanks Dad.

Leave a Reply