A comment to my Other Equal Half last week:

"Isn't there an incredible diversity in the human body?"

We were sitting at the beach at the time, and I love to people watch. I mean, really, there is such an array of body types out there.

As a person who has struggled for some fifteen years with body image (different from self-image) I appreciate being in a place where everybody doesn't look exactly alike. Spandex/Lycra is somehow a great equalizer in the sun at the ocean (the Atlantic ocean) beach.

I grew up skinny and tall--coltish, they used to say. All bony knees and elbows by age eleven, and almost my full adult height of 5'10" by then, I was self-conscious a little, but mostly because I was a late-bloomer, in addition to being taller than all the boys I knew.

In college I looked more like 'everybody else' and blended in quite nicely, thank you. It was not until the Wondergirl was born--my second child--that the troubles began. It seems since then it has been one battle after another to feel at home in my own skin. Lately I look in the mirror and hardly recognize myself. Where did that coltish awkward girl go, and why was she replaced by this thing?

There are advantages, of course, to being "of an age". Even though I don't always feel at home in this skin, I understand it better. I understand its limitations, its strength, its potential, its power. Not to mention that there is a certain appreciation of the body once it has pushed children into the world.

Still, I have starved this body, overfed it, neglected it, pushed it to the point of injury though exercise, and in general been unhappy with it for many years in spite of my efforts. I watched recent news reports about the incidence of eating disorders in very young children, especially girls. I have watched carefully my own daughter for signs of extreme body-consciousness. I want her to feel strong and at home in her own body, but not in order to please anyone else.

As I write this, I can hear her running on the treadmill in the next room. She started a few weeks ago, wanting to feel better before going on vacation. We are not an athletic family, we Cheeseheads. As I have written before, we are mathletes and drama geeks, musicians, artists, and takers of extra credit assignments. But athletes? Nope. But I will not discourage her. Maybe she will be the one to break the family pattern.

I'm thinking a lot about the human body these days. I will lay to rest my second member of St. Stoic in the span of fifteen days later this week. That's six members gone in about nine months, quite a loss for a smallish church. The mind/body/spirit connection is on my mind even as I read about the account in Luke of Jesus reminding his disciples that he was made of flesh and blood--an embodied savior. There seems to be a point to all this body-talk.

Now if I could only apply this to myself.