Friday, September 16, 2011

Ever the professional

I was walking with a group of my inmates today, coming back from the library. One woman wanted to show me "this great book I found!" So she pulls out a small book with the title "Love Your Body: Meditations to improve self-image" (or something like that). She was really excited about it, so I took it and opened it to see what it was about. Y'all. The page I opened started with this, verbatim. "I love my fingers. My fingers give me pleasure." I couldn't even help it. I giggled like a 14 year old and said "Seriously?" And then? She didn't get it, so ANOTHER inmate had to say "It looks like it's saying that you love to touch yourself." The passage went on to wax poetic about the "gift of touch" and how our fingers allow us to experience the world, yada yada yada. It didn't matter, the damage was done. I fumbled around to reframe or at least recover, but I don't think it worked very well. She took her book back and walked to the front of the line. And they're supposed to take me seriously? I'm going to call it "being genuine."

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