Present Over Perfect

And choosing to be happy. Rested, not exhausted, not
afraid, not wired and panicky all the time. This is
countercultural. This is rebellious.
What I want so deeply, and what I want to offer you:
grace and nourishment. And those are the exact opposites of
what I’ve been practicing for so long: exhaustion and
starvation.
This is hospitality at its core. This is the beat of my heart:
to experience grace and nourishment, and to offer it, one in
each hand, to every person I meet—grace and nourishment.
You can rest. You don’t have to starve.
The messages of the world say, in no uncertain terms:
ruin yourself, and starve yourself. Wring yourself out.
Ignore your hunger, your soul, your sickness, your longing.
Exhaustion and starvation are the twin virtues of that
world, but I will not live there anymore.
I will practice hospitality—the offering of grace and
nourishment—to myself. Instead of being starved and small,
I will be medium. And I will be happy.
Or actually, maybe not. Maybe I won’t be happy all of
the time. Maybe when I’m sixty, instead of forty, I’ll be able
to be happy with my size, with my flesh. But of course this
is exactly the point: hospitality, not perfection. I’ll show
hospitality even to the fact that I am sometimes unhappy
with my body. Unhappiness, come right in, sit right down.
We’ll sit together. You’ll stay until you tire of this, and go.
I will practice hospitality to my very own body—you
can rest, you can be nourished, you can be loved. And I’ll