Gerry, 75, and Darwin, 70, beloveds for over 20 years.
I refuse to accept the wide spread (mostly Western) human belief system in regards to what is beautiful, especially when it comes to the sacred vessel we call our body.
Why do we accept to believe that one thing must be more beautiful than another? Why cannot we embrace a million-billion definitions of beautiful?
The divine: skin that drapes, stretches, sags, wrinkles, burns and rebuilds like spiraling Fibonacci across our fragile and strong bones made from the same stuff as the stars all combining to create this phenomenon that comes to life for a short amount of time that we call… bodies.
Many from my human tribe and other humans who wish to sell me things “that will hide the evidence that I am growing older” tell me that as I grow older, I am worth less and less and that elder bodies are anything but beautiful.
These elder bodies: the temples to decades of wisdom, heartbreak, strength, failure, triumph, THRIVING. How, I wonder, could they be anything but beautiful?
I am starting a new series on beloveds over 60 because I wish to be free from the imposed beliefs.
Gerry: I love my body. I use a cane, I am having vision problems and my breasts reach to my waist, but you know what? I like me!
Darwin: I still have body issues. I would love to loose some weight.
*censored for FB.