I Am an Authentic Butt

Admittedly, I had started yoga on a journey to grow my ass.  I am surrounded by friends who have luscious ba-donk-a-donks, and I am “cursed!” with a pancake ass.  One day, I realized, though, that my ass is a muscle.  Were I to work on that muscle, I would grow my butt.  I have photographs of my butt, as I’ve watched it grow.  I tell you, it is still largely an illusion of a butt, manifested by the comfiest of yoga pants (or pajama pants, depending on my underwear comfort radius for the day)

As I embraced Yoga, I realized that my vision was a touch short sighted.  While, yes, my ass might grow, the better result was that my head began dislodging from my small (but mighty itchy) butt.  As my head became free of my anal blockage, shit started getting better.  (heh heh heh)

My Butt is Out of Gas talks about just me now, right? I’m not perfect, I’m struggling, but here is what is new – authenticity.  It means, to me, that I have sat down and realized that my life is mine.  I once wrote that I am alive, “despite my best efforts”.  My thinking has always been despite ___, I am ___.  Despite my toxic marriage ending, I am happy.

Bullshit.  No.

I am where I am BECAUSE of my past.  My past is nothing to be overcome!  For one, it is gone.  I realized I have been Peter Pan my whole damn life.  Chasing after my shadows, and hoping there is a Tinkerbell to come help me, or a Wendy, or any freaking body who can help me stitch my shadow back in place, right?  I am strong, I am ___ because every step I took led me to sitting here in my bed, reflecting on my butt.

You know the most powerful quote I have ever read?

“No one can build you the bridge on which you, and only you, must cross the river of life. There may be countless trails and bridges and demigods who would gladly carry you across; but only at the price of pawning and forgoing yourself. There is one path in the world that none can walk but you. Where does it lead? Don’t ask, walk!” ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

The brilliant mind that wrote this went mad and died alone in a mental institution.

“Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it’s better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring.” ~Marilyn Monroe

The brilliant mind that shared this killed herself.

Yoga led me to meditation, and meditation led me to acceptance.  I will never, in my life, preach to another human.  You see what Nietzsche says there? Meditation is my path, what works for me.  I write this not as a “do as I say!” but for authenticity.  This is me, all of my dark and all of my light, because I am a Yin Yang.  I look at Nietzsche and Marilyn, and I wonder if they could never overcome the shadows that followed their steps.  I wouldn’t know; I just like to think thoughts.

Marilyn is my idol, yet I don’t want to die as she did.  I’ve spent so much time terrified that I am crazy, yet, in accepting that my mind doesn’t handle anything well, I’ve freed my mind to handle things better.  If only to rely on meditation more deeply, if only to acknowledge the power it gives me in observing myself. Awareness can change everything.  When I started tracking that I would get a panic attack every time my period started, I became aware.  Guess who doesn’t get panic attacks along with the crimson tide?  I think it is very simply just knowing – this will happen, so I choose to not allow it to control me.

So many people tell me “be positive! it will change your life!” I sigh.  If you wish to tell yourself that your farts smell like rainbows, be my guest.  Whatever works for you is splendid.  I, on the other hand, would rather accept everything as it is.  There are days where I am sad, and there are days when I am happy.  I appreciate the sad days, as I appreciate a rainy day.  When it rains, I’m happy to be inside under a blanket.  When I am sad, I am happy to be aware of my own goddamn emotions.  Seriously, sometimes it just feels good to know, “I’m feeling something, and I am not escaping or numbing.  Woot!”  My depression LOVES to lie to me and tell me all the things I cannot do.  Admittedly, I’m weeks away from having done a single yoga routine!  I accept it, because right now, introspection, reflection, and creativity are pulling me.  I am aware, so I ensure that I move my body in any fashion – dancing, walking, wandering around my house picking up piles of shit to make other piles of shit that will eventually be put away…Ah, motherhood.

Most of my life, I have spent reacting to everyone and everything else.  I fully believed I had no control.  “I have no choice”  I refuse to believe that any longer.  I refuse to put myself in any box or label, because it is useless. “I am depressed”, what does that serve? I am a victim of chemicals in my brain? I am a victim of genetics? I cannot live that way, because it’s not living.  It is existing.  I come back to my pancake ass, and I realize that I can grow my butt through exercise as much as I can cultivate awareness and accepting.  My mind is like a muscle, just like my growing glutes.

As I step down from my soapbox, I say that no emotion or thought has to control anything. When you are prompted to fight or flight – you are responding to a base instinct.  It is as rudimentary as inhaling and exhaling.  There is something liberating about being able to stare at your truth, smile, and say “I accept you.” In acceptance, you find authenticity.  There is nothing to overcome, there is nothing to fix, and there is nothing to change.

I Am.

Now, place a blank.  I Am ____.  What Will you fill your blank with?  I Will grow my sweet, sweet ass.  I Am a sweet, sweet ass 😉

 

Namaste.

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5 thoughts on “I Am an Authentic Butt

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  1. I can bet the only person who thinks you have a pancake butt is you…lol…I use to think the same thing, then got a bad haircut. I said look at the back, she butchered me. The guy standing nearby said, when you turn around, nobody is looking at your hair, trust me. I never thought my butt was not enough after that 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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