I Like Trees

Imagine that suddenly, you never had to diet again, lift weights again, worry about what fits or how you look. Everyone in the world suddenly recognised that you were beautiful and perfect, exactly as presented, and no one could ever ask for more.
In the midst of that plenty, you shine, radiant, and everyone sees it. No one expects you to compete, because why would you need to compete? You’re enough. Everyone you see is also beautiful, and it’s nice that women dress up, it’s nice that men dress up, it’s lovely to see them and you hope it makes them happy. You’re happy, because you’re enough.

Let’s be honest: most of us have absolutely no trouble finding ourselves. We know right where we are, that’s part of the problem. We know all about where we are. We look around and feel helpless, and the art of finding ourselves is something we love. It frees us from the much less glamourous job of putting up with ourselves, the much less interesting daily practice and choice that really creates change.

As for, “Man up,” I don’t even know where to start. No one says, “woman up.” No one says, “Hey, woman up! Get yourself together!” No one sits down with their child and says, “hey! Get your Sojourner Truth on!” (Now that I think of it, that’s an awesome slogan, though.) “Woman up,” just doesn’t exist, not because women are not tough or strong or up to the fight, but because it’s a macho statement that bears little relation to the actual capabilities of human beings. Telling you to “man up” only gives you half your superpowers. You’ve been gypped, and I’m terribly sorry.