What would you do?

More women than not would give up an entire year of their life if they could be thin for the rest of their remaining life.

Like 98% of American women, I struggle with body image, but this, to me, is nuts. There are times when it seems a wonder that any of us make it out the door with a smile given what we are faced with-- how to eat, excercise, meditate, what to wear to HIDE our faults, tricks to banish hunger, curb cravings, etc. Information abounds on how to improve ourselves, but I have yet to read a headline that says,"Hey girl! You are perfect!"

And here's another little secret--I know thin people who aren't happy.

I would give up one year of my life to not have one more single thought regarding my less-than-perfect physical appearance. In return, all that mental energy could be focused on changing something truly meaningful in the world- like bringing peace to ravaged countries, educating girls around the globe, or maybe, taking the time to write a book.

I might sound a little more bitter than I really am. I have friends who daily motivate me to push myself in areas where I don't feel real comfortable- mainly exercise. I am grateful for this because it does make me feel good.

But 365 days of a life for perceived thinness does not seem like a fair trade. Obesity is no joke. I certainly get that. But with so much focus on the external we forget about the most important part of any person- the interior . That's where the real pain is...and also the real beauty.

What would you do?

Who counts?

Maybe you've paid attention to press given to emergency airplane landings occuring recently. Pilots can be heard stating the number of "souls on board". This number is meant to include every living person on board- ticketed or not- so that a child riding on a parent's lap and crew members are counted as well. The phrase hails from the maritime world and has since eeked it's way into aviation.

I have always liked the word soul and as inferred above, it is living and breathing. True enough. But after a person passes, isn't their soul still alive? I have always thought so. There are times I swear I could feel my grandpa chuckling at something silly I've done. I've been to parties where the air's chemistry seems altered because of an indefinable presence. I've heard people discuss someone who has passed but apparently wants to be among a group that their spirit is palpable.

So I like to think of souls as living, breathing things-- physically present or not. Perhaps just floating out there swooping in when needed for comfort, a nudge in the right direction, hovering nearby for unseen protection, or just a little reminder that their spirit lives on long after their body has left.

I know I want to be recognized and felt long after my body is gone. Or maybe I am just too much of a squeaky wheel and can't stand the thought of not being heard or remembered. Or maybe it's just my whacky coping mechanism for losses I can't understand. No matter. For me it's real. That's the part that really counts.

This is good for whom?

Take any magazine with the word "family" in it and there will be this suggestion: Make time for dinner at the table with everyone present at least 3-4 times per week. Sit down. Pratice the art of conversation. Kindly suggest some manners and just be together with no (apparent) distractions to pave the way for family bonding.

This oft-repeated advice aslo seems to suggest common sense, but lately....I've been wondering about this advice. The bonding part seems to be a struggle for us.

Here is a glimpse of our latest "conversation."

Me: "So the dentist told me I need to stop chewing gum. It's making my jaw click."

Thing 1: "What?"

Me: "The dentist told me I need to stop chewing gum because my jaw is starting to click."

Thing 1: " What?"

Me: "My jaw is clicking."

Thing 1: "Why?"

Big man: "She just said it's because she chews gum."

Thing 1: "What's clicking?"

Big man: "Her jaw!'

Thing 2: "Why are we talking about your jaw?"

Soon Big Man is laughing and and I am snorting. What other choice is there in a time like this?

Thing 2: " I was wasn't paying attention. I was feeling distracted."

Me: "By what? There is nothing else happening here!"

Thing 1: "I still don't get why your jaw clicks. Can you make it stop?"

This time Big man snorts and I laugh. The kids shake their heads, still lost and confused in this land of "family bonding."

There is always tomorrow, but I am not making any promises.

Baby steps

Grief is a beast that stalks us- it is ugly and unpredictable and downright unmanageable. If you have never met the Grief Beast, consider yourself lucky. Does anyone get that lucky?

What never fails to amaze me is the resilliency of our species. Tsunamis and hurricanes and wars and unspeakable acts shred our hearts, but it seems we rise up and head back to work while mulling the ways in which we might hope to mend.

Some smart soul senses this enormous pain and plots a small recovery. Teachers (like the the most awesome Matthew Schultz) and local media and the internet work their magic and soon people everywhere have decided that yes! we will check out this web cam www.ustream.tv/decoraheagles for days on end to witness little eagles being born. Finally! we all seem to gasp. Here is something sweet and real and innocent and of this earth. This innocence is of our planet! Every year little eagles are born but for some reason, this year is the year we need to look. Our souls are tapped, depleted, strung out from so much pain. Please, we seem to say, let's look for something that makes us weep for joy.

Little baby eagles....thank you.