More Christmas shopping today and, of course, more breasts.
Some people reading this would say I am obsessed with breasts, but I think through writing this blog I have become more honest with myself about breasts and less obsessed than I have been throughout my whole life.
But let me go back a few steps.
I love Christmas and I love Christmas shopping. OK, my feet do get tired and I get a little frustrated waiting in queues for so long. But I love being amongst the crowds. I love seeing so many different expressions. A lot of people are in a hurry sure, and Christmas has become way too commercialised, but there is still a sense of giving at Christmas.
I placed some small items at the ABC Shop giving tree this morning and it was overflowing. People were giving generously to those in need.
Sure there's a lot of angst at Christmas but there's also a lot of joy. People genenuinely wanting to make others happy.
So I love observing this as people shop. I think I would love to have my camera and take photos of faces. The field is so rich. So many different faces. So many different expressions.
And of course, so many breasts.
About the time I started this blog, I made a conscious effort to notice what I noticed about breasts. On one occasion on a warm day, I walked down Ackland St, St Kilda and just observerd. I don't think I stared. I just, for once, took note of what I saw. As if I were observing noses, or hair styles. Just noticing.
This was a great experience. Not so much because I was allowing myself to observe breasts without feeling guilty or without trying to sneak a view, but because I accepted that breasts are part of the landscape. They are part of what we see.
Sometimes we act as though, and my breasted friends think that is all we see. Of course it is not. But because, at least somewhere withing ourselves, we feel guilty about breast watching, it does become an obsession. Like any obsession, it tries to block out everything else.
But if we allow that we like seeing breasts and accept it, we can say "OK, yes I've seen a breast and it is nice, but there's lot's else to see as well." Shock horror, we might notice that women have beautiful eyes as well. We might notice our breasted friends hair, their beautiful skin, the way they walk, the pretty colour and cut of their clothes .
Yes we notice these things anyway, but our breast obsession detracts from the attention we can give to these other dimensions.
So if we come out from behing our hiding places and accept that we like breasts and we like seeing them. If we allow ourselves to be vulnerable to our breasted friends in allowing them to know we like their breasts we might also be able to more fully let them know that we like all of them as well.
When I look at faces when I am Christmas shopping, I reaffirm my belief that the face is a window to a soul. That is the connection I make with others.
Breasts, on the other hand and for better or worse, have become the window to woman-ness. It is not that we need to focus on breasts alone, but to men in western society they represent more than any other sinlge thing, le'difference.
Let's between us learn to enjoy that so we can move on to more meaningfully knowing each other.
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