It seems that we haven't evolved much since the times of ancient Egypt, some two thousand years before the arrival of Christ, in which the vanities even imposed face masks with crocodile excrement and swine lard to support and shine the hair, all this after hours soaking in tubs of sour milk. Aff… How awful… That's what the beautiful were like, which leads one to imagine how the definitely ugly ones looked like!
Without the slightest chance of any improvement in the body in which I navigate through this existence as short as it is tasty, I ended up being co-opted by the ranks of those who praise the summer in the body, that is, an almost dreamlike state in the “me with myself” relationship. In this type of relationship, there is nothing to improve in the body in order to achieve the feeling of being happy. The way we accept it as the most beautiful and healthy expression of harmonies between possibilities speaks louder: what we are and what we can be. And on tribe of the well-resolved with your body, there is no contempt for cosmetology and all sorts of “photoshopped” resources so to the taste of pre-summer weeks, but there is also no docile and somewhat neurotic subjection because, a tribe naturally happy and at peace with life, they are totalized people. , have already tasted all the flavors of life, sweet and bitter, and are well tuned with their existential dimensions, among them: that what counts is the emotional vibration, that yes! In this tribe, there is a reverence for one's own body, not the cult of other people's bodies or an impossible image of a highly sculpted photographic model.
I've been thinking, better using the time I would waste giving leash to the whispers of the patacoada of sectors of the media that don't dare to show themselves as examples of the beauties propagated in their articles and, thinking, a little abused even, I admit, I defend the thesis that this idea of ​​beauty for the summer is not sensible. If the dear reader has reached this half dozen lines that closes the text, then I can share with him/her what some wise men taught me: it's all about letting go of the body and letting life expand with it and your choices. This letting go means that it is wise to listen and understand his signals and eat, drink and sleep only what he asks for, because nothing is bad, only excess. It's also worth letting the body play at ease on walks that you really enjoy, free from the tables that infest the coaches' notebooks, races in which you venture without worries with flashy uniforms and the pile of junk that decorate the body, but don't adds no value, apart from the debts and interest on credit cards, and that people enjoy in various sports, without spending energy on aesthetic standards, much less on winning or losing. The body will show itself as a young person in unforgettable summers if it is given the freedom to dance in praise of life, paying little attention to the technique of fashionable rhythm, bones and muscles playing together and jumping over the bonfires where fears, shames and silly shyness. Ah… And the summer will be reverberant, releasing energies to ignite the nuclei of new stars elsewhere, far beyond the Milky Way, if your body, between us, dear reader of this brave and sweet Me Without Borders, is released for fierce hand-to-hand combat… Between the sheets! There, you can believe, O you who still have some reluctance, the summer will even stretch a few days longer so that, expanded in this way, there is a new and immense sensation of happiness.
As I have a little space left, I leave a very nice effect like this “summer in the body” practice, not the “body for summer” nonsense: rejuvenates!
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