Welcome to your monthly dose of poetry.
As the western world turns a judgemental eye on the ‘beach bodies’ of the world, I’m reminded of this wonderful poem by Joyce Sutphen. Sadly I am not sunning myself on a beach here or abroad but I have been conscious of how much strain I’ve been putting my body under this year. I am conscious, mostly, because my body has been sending me gentle reminders that I am not superhuman – it need sleep and fruit and much more movement than it currently experiences on a weekly basis.
Generally I’m quite good at trusting what my body needs, physical exertion aside. I know what to eat, and in what order, when my body is experiencing an unexpected hangover for example. I can recognise the very earliest signs of scurvy. I never need to crack my knuckles but I can picture the exact bones within my back that need to be crunched back into shape after a long week sitting at a desk. I do try to look after my body, but I know I could do better. And I should. It deserves better, its always been a dear and loyal friend to me.