A Sacrament of Rest and Oranges

The gift of loving attention and friendship

We had just spent the night on five star hotel sheets at the Four Seasons, and while they were luxurious, they were made even more so by scoring the “government rate” for the room. We felt so flush that we didn’t even feel bad about ordering three glasses of orange juice for $50 to add to the cheap bubbly we brought. Don’t judge me, it was fresh squeezed. Three teachers in February getting ready to spend the day at a complimentary spa and drinking mimosas might be the happiest people you will ever see.  Three teachers in February getting ready to spend the day at a complimentary spa and drinking mimosas at a discounted rate are definitely the happiest people you will ever see. 

Carroll, Carolyn and I sat like the slumber party girls we were, cross-legged on the bed, drinks in hand and with a deck of cards.  I had brought my Divine Feminine Oracle cards. For those of you that get itchy around such things, these cards are not focused on divination but on an invitation for reflection. And because they are also packed with wisdom written by Meggan Watterson, MDiv, author of  Mary Magdalene Revealed, they also seem to reveal individualized insight. I spread the cards out in the middle of the bed and we took turns naming an intention for our day of relaxation and then choosing a card to speak into our intention. My friends named their thoughtful intentions and carefully chose their cards. We were amazed how perfect the card was for each moment. 

Now it was my turn, and I named my intention. I wanted to spend the day feeling more in my body. I wanted to appreciate it. And then I picked the card. 

***

For as long as I can remember I’ve had a love/hate relationship with my body. I remember being on the bus in first grade and wondering if I would ever be as plump as my grandmother. “Wondering” and “plump”  are kinder words than the anxious fear that consumed me when I thought about my future womanly body. All my growing up was filled with messaging that thin was good, fat was bad. I won’t bore you with my body issues, you know them. You’ve maybe experienced them. The bigger problem is that when you are desperately afraid of your body, you either focus way too much on it or you deny that it exists. I was in the latter camp. Camp Denial. 

I’ve always located my Self above my shoulders. If I could live in my head, in my imagination and my reasoning, then I could somehow overcome the need for a body. I only gave my body things that felt good, like a tiger I had chained up and threw a steak to every once in a while.  A sauna feels good. So does an ice cream sundae and an orgasm. But today I was hoping to use this time not just to feel good in my body, but to live well in my body. To go through the day, not in my head, but to live in the deep sinews where logic and cognition don’t exist. This was my prayer. 

And this was my card:

 

YesheTsogyal, Lady of the Lotus-Born: Embodiment is the deepest bliss. My body was made for enlightenment. She represents the ultimate spiritual wisdom that the human body is all that is needed for enlightenment. It can be so easy to forget that everything we touch, everything we say, and everything we do is not separate from the divine. One of the most potent spiritual truths: the female body is an asset to enlightenment, not a hindrance. The body can too often be a scapegoat for so much hate, distrust and violence. The body holds infinite wisdom, pleasure and possibilities. This is the moment to see your gorgeous body as the tremendous gift it is. It’s the moment to realize that there is no greater intoxication than just being fully in your body - from head to soul. (are you kidding me!?) Yeshe is the call to remember the holiness of your flesh, the deep wisdom your body contains, and the temple you walk around in every day. 

We were shocked.  I mean there were sections of the card that were verbatim the wording I used in my intention! The three of us looked at each other slack jawed, downed the last sip of our overly priced mimosas, and sprang up to get dressed to live into the prayers we had dared to utter. 

***

Our spa day was glorious. Carolyn, who said that all she wanted was to rest, fell asleep right there in the lounge. This is a woman who works so hard and desperately needed a nap. Carroll, who wanted to be free of her own self-doubt, had already felt affirmed by the wisdom her card had shared. She didn’t explain how, she held that for herself, but we saw the truth of it in the tears that welled in her eyes.  And me, well, while Carolyn was sleeping peacefully next to us, Carroll and I shared an orange from the snack counter. 

She carefully peeled it and broke off a section for me. I took it but said, “Ahh, I’m not really an orange person.” But then I bit into the orange,  and as it burst in my mouth, it was like I was tasting food for the first time. I closed my eyes. I concentrated on the feel of the orange, the bright sweetness of the juice. I chewed slowly and then waited before I put the second slice in my mouth. 

And then I heard a voice, “This is what it's like to live in a body.” 

***

There’s a new series on AppleTV about the origins of French fashion during World War II and the lives of  designers Christian Dior and Coco Chanel, The New Look. It’s a fascinating story, and Juliet Binoche as Chanel and Ben Mendhelson as Dior are superb. In the story, there is a scene where Dior and his friend, fellow designer, Cristobal Balenciaga (Nuno Lopes) share a quiet moment in the midst of the pain of war. 

“Take a moment with me.” says Balenciaga. “Sit. I have something to share.” He pulls out what’s left of a swiss chocolate bar. He breaks it in two. “Half for you, half for me.” Balenciaga lifts the chocolate up, and in a toast that sounds more like a prayer he says, “To the end of this Nazi awfulness and their hopeless, pointless war. To the end of the end, of the end.” 

Dior responds, “To the bells.  The bells in all the churches.  All the bells in Paris ringing the day of our liberation.”

“To the bells,” echoes Balenciaga. 

The two men take a bite of chocolate and close their eyes savoring the moment. Dior throws his head back and sighs and I see a man who, for a moment, at the height of war and as a gay Catholic, is safe to live fully in his body.  

To live in a body is not about climbing Everest. To live in a body is about paying attention to it. That’s it.  Our body is a temple, yes. But what if the temple image isn’t used in scripture to make us feel guilty about eating the wrong things, not getting enough sleep, smoking a cigarette now and again?  What if we honor God with the temple of our bodies because like a temple, we give it reverent and loving attention?  We honor it by choosing to live within it instead of avoiding it. In the moments where everything becomes still, we experience life more fully through our somatic knowing - our breath, our senses, our nervous system. Our bodies don’t need the shame that keeps us disconnected, they need the loving attention that makes every painful ache and bite of chocolate and tender touch a prayer. That’s what I learned from eating that orange with Carroll on the lounge chairs at the Four Seasons with Carolyn sleeping peacefully beside us. 

In an interview I read with Mendleson he references the chocolate scene. He says, “That type of male closeness is not a type of male closeness that I’ve ever performed before. To be able to look at each other in a way that is a different type of male togetherness and understanding and have it not be an event, and have it just be a type of closeness or an easyness with each other, was beautiful.”

I am grateful for that same kind of togetherness and understanding, the ease of closeness I experienced with my friends that day. We created a kind of safety for each other to rest, to let go, and to pay loving attention.