Some friends and I were discussing the scene from the movie “What The Bleep Do We Know” where Amanda (Marlee Matlin) is upset about her life and the things she doesn’t like about her body and she starts drawing on herself with an ink pen.  She draws and writes on herself initially out of frustration but it soon turns into a blessed release.  My friends and I all resonated with that beautiful scene, as she changes her vibration before our eyes. 

One amazing friend of mine, who is slender said that she had done it herself with body crayons, to become more comfortable with parts of her body she had always wished were different and it had helped.

I figured for a girl my size it was probably futile, I mean it’s one thing if you are slender and think life would be perfect if you didn’t have an extra pound on each thigh.  But for me I wasn’t sure.  Still I was willing to try anything, I figured at the least it would just be a fun experience for a quiet Sunday afternoon and an invitation to make myself laugh. 

I had become committed to finding ways to put the childlike fun back into my life, and I’d also been asking for guidance on how to become more loving toward my body, to connect with it in a way I’ve never felt before, so I was willing to give it a shot.

When I was shopping I found a set of colorful washable markers in the stationary department at a common discount store.  It was weird buying them for myself with the intention of drawing on my own body.  I felt a little silly and secretive as I checked out with my other purchases.  The absurdity of a woman my age, buying markers to go home and use to draw like a kid on her body had me giggling all the way to my car.

I wasn’t seeing myself as particularly creative, so I even considered buying some stencils too.  But I decided that it wasn’t about drawing a masterpiece, it was about having some fun, and hopefully changing beliefs and feelings about my body. 

I chose a time when I knew I wouldn’t be interrupted, or rushed, and when I didn’t have to worry about anyone knowing what I was doing.  I didn’t even want to try to explain why I was in the bathroom naked . . . drawing on my stomach!

I really did feel silly as I started undressing.  But I was standing in front of the same mirror where I had had my epiphany about weight being evidence of my powerful creative ability.  That fact alone gave me the courage to give this a try.  I smiled at my reflection in the mirror because I realized I was very proud of what I was willing to do to change the things about myself I wasn’t happy with, and to find self love.  But I still felt silly.

I picked out the prettiest color and drew a big heart on my stomach (I never claimed to be an artist) and then I grabbed another color and wrote I love you in the heart.  I won’t go into what I wrote, or where I wrote it.  My reasons aren’t important to anyone but me. 

It only took a few minutes to get past my initial resistance.  And once I did, I was in the zone . . . the silly, fun, creative, allowing zone.  A great place to be. 

I drew and wrote and just played as long as it felt good.  Time stood still, I really don’t know how long I played.  I had quite a canvas to decorate and I simply did it till I felt finished . . . complete.  Then I capped the markers and turned to look at myself in the mirror . . . and I began to laugh, the laughter built on itself and I ended up in sidesplitting hilarity!

My body was a glorious canvas, love was written over bulges, sagging skin, cellulite and rolls.  I was a living breathing testament to appreciation and it felt so good.

Something inside me clicked, as I laughed.  Because I wasn’t laughing at myself as much as I was laughing for myself.  I was delighted by my rediscovered ability to be silly.  I felt proud by my commitment to do whatever was required for change.  I was laughing at my past obsession with appearance, and I was laughing because I had never in my life loved my body so much as I did right then. 

The laughter felt cleansing, it felt freeing, and it felt like my true self . . . my Soulself laughing right along with me and adoring me.

My plan had been, based on how I felt when I finished, to either immediately jump in the shower or draw a hot bath and soak off the evidence of my lunacy.  I figured if I felt stupid and ridiculous I’d shower if off quickly.  And if I felt sad and ridiculous I’d soak it off slowly. 

What I didn’t expect was after creating and playing and laughing so much I didn’t feel silly at all, I felt soothed, and loving and happy and free.  No stupid, no sad, no ridiculous . . . only love.

I realized I didn’t want to wash off my masterpiece immediately and I didn’t care if anyone else noticed what I had written.  Which was easy because I wasn’t expecting anyone to be there anyway.  I threw on my most comfortable “only round the house” wear and for the next couple of hours I stayed covered in my own love.  I did some writing, I read, I enjoyed my vibration of love.

Then when I was ready, I did draw a hot bath.  And I lit candles and put on perfect music and soaked in bath oil, soothed with a mask, and pampered my formally adorned skin with rich lotions.  I turned it into an incredible afternoon of pampering myself.

My feelings and attitude about my body changed that day.  I didn’t do a complete reverse, but I made a huge progress.  I went from disliking and feeling shamed and intimidated by my body, to a sense of loving it as it is, for what it is.  My body became my friend in a way I’d never felt it before.  And my desire to treat it lovingly and to nurture it expanded in a new way too.

For the next few weeks every time I looked in that mirror I would automatically smile thinking about my afternoon “artwork”.  That still happens often.  I keep those markers in a safe place where whenever I need another reminder of how beautiful and wonderful my body is, I can grab them, shut myself away and draw.

I still us them when I have an event ahead of me that feels a little intimidating to me and I want to feel more connected and loving of myself.  Before I dress I will draw a little heart and “I love you” somewhere on my body where no one will know it’s there.  I carry that feeling of love with me all day long, even though I usually forget about the “tattoo” quickly.  Then I laugh at the end of the day when I find it there under my clothes.  As I look back inevitably, I’m delighted that the day turned out to be wonderful.

The whole experience opened my eyes to the fact that a crucial step to changing my life is finding the fun in what I have always taken way too seriously.  I realized my sense of childhood delight had somehow been smothered as I grew up an “overweight” person.  Eclipsed by the seriousness everyone else considered my “issue”.  At some point how other’s see me had become so much more important to me than how I see myself, and I had become way too afraid of being judged . . . but them and me.

I hadn’t realize that one of the keys to changing anything is finding the love, the fun and the joy in the process of changing.  Finding those things in the very situation I want to change itself and them in my own life. 

At some point I had forgotten how great it feels to be silly and laugh at myself.  I’d forgotten how sometimes laughter holds love and often love hides in laughter.

I realized that the key to changing thinking often lies in finding a way to laugh, and by laughing, release resistance and allow real joy and new awareness to flow abundantly to me.

Tigerlily