Show your colors

One of the things I adore about going to Indian restaurants (besides the food), is seeing women of all ages, shapes and sizes wearing their saris. Ornate, intricate, goddess-worthy swaths of draped fabric with celestial bling. Rhinestones, sequins, tiny mirrors, metallic embroidery – these women know how to adorn themselves!

Most of all, I love that grandmas bare their midsections, unapologetically.

I wore an open-backed fitness shirt one day, and my daughter announced, shocked – ‘MOM! I can see your whole BACK!’ I mean, I had a sports bra on. Her disapproval showed me how pervasive a shame for our bodies, or fashion choices, can be. Sure, we do need to cover ourselves according to our levels of modesty, and for the weather. But I hope that we collectively have better things to do, than judge ourselves and each other for what we’re wearing.

I used to get scrumptious takeout falafel sandwiches at a place called Kebab Grill. The owner and his wife wore their traditional clothing, and acted like I was in their home – ‘hey, would you like to try some of this – I just made it!’ It felt like entering another world, a more generous and friendly one. It was a respite.

Then, 9/11 happened.

The restaurant changed its name, to USA Grill. The menu adapted to serve some Western staples. And, the couple who owned it got smart haircuts and started to wear American clothing. Everything evolves, everything changes – but it was painfully obvious that their choice to switch gears was a choice based on fear. It was palpable, and sadly understandable.

The fashion police are alive and well – both in the world, and in our own minds. ‘Am I too old to be wearing this? Am I going to be out of place? Will they notice the coffee I just spilled? What if everyone’s dressed down but I feel like dressing up? Or vice versa? I LOVE arm socks, but will other people think I’m weird?’ That’s the litany I usually subject myself to. It’s a long list of completely unnecessary thoughts, and I watch them pass through my mind, wave and smile at them. I try not to engage them in dialogue anymore. I try to just let that type of pointless thinking, move along.

My first yoga teacher said – ‘at the end of our lives, nobody is going to remember what size jeans you were. They will remember, how you made them FEEL. Your body is like… a Tupperware. Your gift to the world is your spirit, your heart, your courage. You don’t give someone an empty Tupperware. You give them one with something good inside. Realize what’s more important about you… the container, or what’s inside.’

We are so much more than where we’re from, what we wear, or what we drive. None of that matters.

We are spirit, heart, courage. No matter how much we try to hide these inside our Tupperwares, we are meant to let these qualities shine. They are, our irreplaceable gift to the world.