Lose The Weight

superlatively rude

1. clean out your ears

I thought I’d misheard him. I must’ve. Maybe it was the language barrier. Surely nobody would say that.

Lose the weight.

He moved around the swelteringly hot yoga hall adjusting the other women in the room – women who were, I had noticed, twenty, thirty, and forty pounds slimmer than me. Of course I'd noticed that. I wasn’t threatened by it, or upset. I’ve worked hard for the body image I’ve got, and I’m only in the business of doing me. But: other women’s bodies are not invisible, and I do not know in which incarnation of myself I will be evolved so as not to spot the chic with the chaturanga arms or Jessica Alba abs. That’s just how it is.

That’s just how it is.


Values, And How They Change

Superlatively Rude

There’s a shift happening, and I didn’t know it was coming until the ground beneath my ever-moving feet was already changing up into a pause.

Since leaving India I’ve been working from my parents’ house, because I don’t have anywhere to be until July. Mum and Dad didn’t so much ask me to hang around for a minute as categorically tie me to my mother’s She Shed and say, Laura, we missed you, and we want to look after you as you keep writing this book, so shut up and let us.

That means, of course, that they believe in me. And that they love me. I find it tremendously difficult to let myself be loved, and to be helped, but that isn’t the point of this post. Or maybe it is. Maybe all I’m trying to say is that it feels like some healing is going on, but I don't have the words for that yet.

I have one word, though. No. Two. In India,  devotion appeared over and over and over again. As did surrender. The man with the incredible mind, the one who took my heart (and my breath), he said something to me that plays in my imagination before I go to sleep. He was the culmination of surrender and devotion. My words aren't a problem for him.

When I was considering leaving my yoga course he said, You know what separates us from the animals? From the lions and bears and elephants? Surrender. Animals will never surrender to their prey, to their destiny, but we can. 

About A Man

Superlatively Rude

I need to write about him so that I don’t forget how it happened. (I won’t forget.) We don’t talk much. I find it harder when we do. He tells me he’s on his way, once his visa comes through. That he’ll see me soon. I can wait. I don't have a choice.

He is about as intoxicating as you’d imagine a man raised on Western ideals and Hindi literature to be. That is to say, liberal and practical and whip-smart and boundlessly, endlessly, disarmingly romantic about the world. When he walked past my table onto the terrace outside, the day I arrived, my body felt him before my eyes saw him. That is a real thing that happened - but if you said that happened to you I wouldn’t believe it. I’d say that was a way to make the story better. To make a beginning when you worry you already have your end.

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