yoga belly

Staring in the mirror, willing myself to look away, to ignore it, to let it go. This is yoga class. This is a place to relax, to accept my body. It is not the place to stare at the mirror and loathe the giant belly.

Not pregnant. Just fat. Belly in the mirror. Belly in the way in the warrior pose. Belly protruding further than the breasts.

Breathe in, breathe out. Deeply. Close my eyes. Feel the muscles relax, give a little more, stretch a little further. With the eyes closed, the belly doesn’t matter. All that matters is the breath, the strength, the giving in, the letting go.

against the tide

Not sea creature, this. Not frog, not fish. No sweet taste shrimp, no salty seaweed.

Abounds in limbs, it does, it squirms, it flails. It shouts with rage and shivers with fear.

It does its time, it betrayed, it rebelled. It was caught, it was judged, it was sentenced.

And what my crime? Against the divine, what did I do to deserve this dessert?

It sits, it cries, it repents, it believes. And heave, divine guide, so I heave, and it screams.

I scrape my emptied belly on the rocks and sand and shore. And Jonah walks alone to Ninevah.

It's ok, Beverly. I'm not in a hurry, just need to know how it plays for an audience.

Bugger me backward with a 2-person canoe, Liese!

That was gorgeous.

Liese, wow. Oh, wow. Amazing.

Except--did you mean dessert, as in a sweet course after a meal? Or "just deserts?"

Erika, I'll take a look tomorrow when I'm not quite so verschimlt.

I thought 'dessert' was intentional - wordplay with 'just deserts', but literal reference to part of its meal. Worked for me.

Yah, worked for me too. I was just curious. It is gorgeous.

My first drabble:

The cell phone rings, heralding the next bit of information that may change my life, or it may simply be the utter nonsense that is so essential to a full existence. I recognize the tune. It's my father. He never calls unless it's important. My gut is telling me this time is no different.

I answer, my voice frosted with happiness over a middle layer of trepidation. I pray he doesn't notice. He doesn't, because he's wrapped up in situations he can't control. Bad things are happening. My stomach knots up, and the wine I just drank threatens to escape its now-unhappy confines. I am instantly alert and fearing the worst. Hands have invaded my body to clench every vital organ in preparation for the news. My sister is divorcing her husband. For a second the hands squeeze, making my heart skip a beat and taking my breath away. Then I remember, my "dear" brother-in-law is not so dear, and the hands relax their death-grip. The knots in my stomach are gently untied and my heart is released with a gentle caress, soothing the pounding that threatened to drown out everything else. It is important, and it is bad, but not for long. This is for the best. My gut is telling me that too.

SophieMax and Liese -- I *love* those!

Love the whale, Liese, that was awesome. Chills.