Today I was thinking about appearances, about how here the body´s functionality is much more important than its appearance.
I´ve never been fond of my ample hips until the past couple of days when I´ve watched the girls with bony hips struggle with raw chafing from having the hipbelt pulled tight around them all day. I smirk and pat my sides.
But then, see, I´m a little angry at my hips, too. My left one is creaky and angry. It´s usually a bit difficult, but apparently it doesn´t like to walk for 8 hours at a time for 4 days in a row.
Form, function.
Who wrote that hip poem? Lucille Clifton? Maya Angelou? Somehow it´s much easier to feel el sentido rather than just appreciate the sentiment.
Homage to My Hips
ReplyDeletethese hips are big hips.
they need space to
move around in.
they don't fit into little
petty places. these hips
are free hips.
they don't like to be held back.
these hips have never been enslaved,
they go where they want to go
they do what they want to do.
these hips are mighty hips.
these hips are magic hips.
i have known them
to put a spell on a man and
spin him like a top
Lucille Clifton
I grew up with a stick figure. I was so happy on the day I grew hips.
ReplyDeleteIf your hips are bothering you, there is a yoga move that really helps pop them back into place. it's an archer pose, but you lunge slightly. hurts at first, but gets everything in the right palce.