It’s such an unbreakable, imbedded habit. You are not appropriate as you are, therefore you must disguise yourself at every turn. What a release it is to feel my body as just that, a body, a container, parts that move together as a whole, not a display piece. Not here for my aesthetic pleasure, but here as a piece of glorious biology.

Did I tell you that the ceremony was outdoors? 

Did I tell you that it rained from the moment I sat in my chair to the moment the ceremony was over?

Did I tell you that I was handed my (actual) diploma in a trash bag?

‘Cause, yeah, talk about the most hilarious and humiliating way to end a degree I worked so hard for.

it was the last day of my boyfriend’s visit in the states and the sun sank at 830pm, the peak of summer, the days are long and hot and end in glorious blankets of thin coolness. the mountain air settles in and eases sunburn and the exhaustion of being alive and awake and active for the entire day. we were standing in the driveway, heat from the pavement in the soles of our shoes and the breezy chill waking little bumps on our exposed forearms. he stood beside me, watching the brush and the forest. specks of neon yellow light blinked on and off, like lemonade christmas lights moving against the dark blue night. 

“what’s that?” he asked, surprised, infatuated, nervous.

“fireflies,” i said. “you don’t have those in australia?” i have not spent long enough in the country to know — five months and i only picked up the smallest fragments, no matter how hard i tried to learn and absorb.

“no, we don’t,” he said. he watched the sky and the bugs winked. it was the end of may, so their frequency was just beginning to pick up, not like the bright blasts of bugs in the middle of july, like when i used to run through my acres of a yard and catch them in my hands until i fell down in the scratching grass, and there were still millions of little bugs and stars and winks in the sky. that night with my boyfriend, there were just a few fireflies.

but he looked up at the sky anyway and he grinned and we stood in the backyard where we could watch their lights, like children. i felt the awe, i looked at familiar bugs as if i had never comprehended their possibility. being in a relationship that takes you across the world is tremendously hard but why would you ever say no to love that stretches the globe when it brings you into so much joy? you know, in fireflies and eating meat pies from the local baker and sharing bbq and learning the movements of another culture, all while cultivating a relationship that’s so strong and steady and common. 

they are beautiful, he said, and of course they are, of course the fireflies make you stop thinking, if you let them. of course a blinking night sky is one of the most wondrous resources for happiness i have. i’m glad he reminded me, just by his natural awe, by being in his own surprised adoration. i’m glad he reminded me to see the fireflies, even though i’ve been watching them for years.

I just tend to want to erase most of humanity. When people argue that fat people in fashion is “glamorizing obesity” — if I hear that phrase again, I swearrrrr y’all better watch out.

This week I bought a Groupon for 10 yoga classes for $39. The studio is an awesome community donation studio with all kinds of different attitudes, teaching levels, and class offerings. I am looking into seriously studying yoga in the future, but I would like to integrate my practice more frequently before I start. I want to learn as much as possible. This deal is a good motivator for me to go frequently, to take different styles of classes, and to find teachers and practices that work well for me.

For me, yoga is mental — it’s not really a physical stint, though it can be disguised, in some studios, as a workout. It’s a small part of a larger ideological framework, one that is really missing for me in a lot of Western philosophy. I would like to learn more about meditation, about self and selflessness, about freeing yourself from thought. It’s not just a bodily relaxation, it’s a way to frame my entire peace with self. It also helps me love and cherish and understand my body. Nothing in this universe has made me pay attention to my micromovements and the subtle parts of my physicality the way yoga does. I think it’s a powerful tool in recovery from an eating disorder.

Anyway, after attending about a dozen yoga classes at this point, I’ve developed a little system to evaluate the quality of my guided practice and found better ways to understand what I like, what works for me, and what doesn’t. Feel free to adopt this little system for your own purposes if you want!

Yoga Recap #1: 9:30am – 11:00am Subtle Yoga with Kaoverii (all levels)

Instructor: Kaoverii (female), talkative, and silly, laughing, making jokes, which I found a little annoying. I have a hard time drawing my full attention from my own distracting thoughts when somebody is very lighthearted and silly. Her attitude was nice, voice was calm, but occasionally her talking was intrusive.

Class content: Slow, and, as the name implies, subtle. Really nice building to protect the lower back (+!) and making sure the poses are held correctly without injuring or crunching the back. My spine has a subtle curvature (which I just noticed with the help of yoga) that needs extreme protection to keep the lower back from grinding. Correctly building of poses is super important. Class is an hour and a half and the length is nice. I liked the movements, poses, flow, and “tone” of the movements. 

Quality of practice: It took me a while to relax into this class, but once I did, it was really enjoyable. I think subtle, long, slow, and deep classes are more appropriate for what I want: real connection and empathy for my body and the ability to actively progress to meditation. Faster classes can also provide that, just so long as they are not masked as workouts — if I hear the phrase “bikini body,” I definitely know I’m in the wrong place. I think fast or hot yoga classes tend to attract people looking after exercise, not necessarily meditative or healing qualities. 

Quality of shavasana: Really relaxing and long, she didn’t walk around much after distributing eye pillows and she did not talk or instruct after the first minute, which is great. I find instructing me to “relax” often does the opposite.

Other: she read some Christian poetry at the end of shavasana, but I actually didn’t mind — it was about how the Lord’s name is not the only key to the universe. People, for years, have been integrating into the massive system of energy, and the Lord is not necessarily the key to that system. For an atheist, it was a little startling but it wasn’t obnoxious or heavy handed, and it could be interpreted in different ways. She did seem to have a God-centric view of the devotion aspect of yogic practices, but not enough for me to never take a class with her again.

It seems that my perception of self will always be stuck in the years that formed me, the years of being larger. I think it all comes down to finding value in who I am — something I still struggle to do. Worth, in a cerebral and almost unchangeable way, has been associated with weight for most of my life. And as long as I feel worthless (no matter how illogical that may be), I will never be able to see myself as 165 pounds. Right now I am fighting to change my perception of value, not my weight.