By Stephanie Mei
Combing my hair before the foggy mirror, I notice how my arm now casts a shadow on itself: the beginnings of a shapely bicep—the fruit of two weeks’ work in a food forest. If I continue, my arms will be more defined, my hands rough with undertaking. Maybe, just maybe, my shoulders will be broader, so I can lift more things and look less waifish. After all, women today ought to be strong. To be pin-thin is to be dependent, helpless.
Then I catch myself.
I will miss my jiggly arms, the smallness of my body. The way I clutch a pitchfork close to the head to counter the weight of cut grass piles. How my back screams when I wheelbarrow drums of bokashi up and down slopes. How weeding takes me longer, requires more prying and more pulling. My inefficiencies are clear. But perhaps none of these are flaws. Who ordained that one’s body must be heavy lifting, that this is the only way to be?
Meanwhile, seedlings stand limp, weighed down by their tiny leaves. When transplanting, their young, stringy roots can snap when untangled from the compost and each other. I’m learning to pull softly, slowly, restraint beating in my fingertips. They invite a touch softer than my tugs to unknot my hair, softer than bruise-easy first leaves, softer than how a worm hangs around one’s finger, all saying there’s a place for lightness here.
Stephanie Mei is a Chinese Filipino writer who explores her relationship with her home, nature, and art through essays. Her works have appeared in In Short: A Journal of Flash Nonfiction, The Tiger Moth Review, diaCRITICS, Spellbinder, and The Lumiere Review, among others. Outside of literature, she likes agroforestry, embroidery, and cat reels. Instagram: @houseblessing_ Website: stephaniemei.journoportfolio.com
Image by Yulia Sushkova courtesy of iStock
Love this Stephanie. Love the surprise of where you take us…
Beautiful!
What a lovely piece to be reading in the wee hours, you bring me hope for freedom from tyranny through creativity, thank you.
Oh my. This is so beautiful and tender. How well you depict lightness of being, and its place in the world.
Such a tender, breathtaking essay! Thank you for writing and submitting and River Teeth for publishing and sharing it with us!
“softer than. . .” The soft sound and fragile imagery in the last line captures the power and beauty of a light touch. Thank you.
An absolutely stunning essay. Who ordained what we can do?
A place for lightness. Lovely
Thank you, Stephanie, this made my day.
Thank you so much, everyone, for the lovely words & for sharing how this piece moved you. Thank you as well to the editors for giving a beautiful home to this piece!