Pamela Taeuffer's Blog - Posts Tagged "obesity"
Love Story - Is that what our lives are about?
Our lives are ultimately a love story, aren't they?
We strive to move through and dodge the pain, keep it away, sometimes embrace it, and other times we swear, scream, lash out, beat another down, with words, fists . . . all to make us safe, our family safe, our friends . . . because we love them.
Or we fear them. Or we want them to fear us, or love us, or forgive us.
Do we love ourselves in the same way?
Do we give ourselves the breaks and space we so generously allow others?
Or do we drink down the thing that can numb us?
We yearn to live outside of our fears. We desperately want others to surround us with love.
I picture invisible hands caressing and holding me, holding us, and hope that people I have around me will accept everything about me, the good and the bad, and love me for who I am.
Can we love each other that way?
If someone is five hundred pounds, do we see them as lovable?
If someone has been burned and married, and their skull is dented, their scalp torn apart in an accident or by a bomb in war, can we love them?
Can we forgive a parent, a spouse, a child, for falling short of our expectations, being an alcoholic or an addict and abandoning us?
Can we love them still, as just another human being?
Should we?
We strive to move through and dodge the pain, keep it away, sometimes embrace it, and other times we swear, scream, lash out, beat another down, with words, fists . . . all to make us safe, our family safe, our friends . . . because we love them.
Or we fear them. Or we want them to fear us, or love us, or forgive us.
Do we love ourselves in the same way?
Do we give ourselves the breaks and space we so generously allow others?
Or do we drink down the thing that can numb us?
We yearn to live outside of our fears. We desperately want others to surround us with love.
I picture invisible hands caressing and holding me, holding us, and hope that people I have around me will accept everything about me, the good and the bad, and love me for who I am.
Can we love each other that way?
If someone is five hundred pounds, do we see them as lovable?
If someone has been burned and married, and their skull is dented, their scalp torn apart in an accident or by a bomb in war, can we love them?
Can we forgive a parent, a spouse, a child, for falling short of our expectations, being an alcoholic or an addict and abandoning us?
Can we love them still, as just another human being?
Should we?
