How do you catch a monkey in India?

There is a famous anecdote about the way you catch a monkey in India. You drop a handful of nuts into a jar with a small opening. The monkey puts his hand into the jar, grabs the nuts, and then finds that he can't get his fist out through the opening. If the monkey would just let go of the nuts, he could escape. But he won't.

Attachment leads to suffering, detachment leads to freedom. It's as simple as that.

I read this anecdote this morning on another bulletin board that I frequent...it was posted by one of my fellow competitor friends, and it struck me as particularly relevant to my situation with my head, my figure and food.

I have felt and still continue to feel trapped and haunted by that image of the figure competitor...the one with no loose skin or stretch marks, with a perfectly outlined and concave six-pack of abdominal muscles, perfectly shaped and lean quads, a perfectly shaped and tight gluteus, and perfectly proportioned shoulders in relation to my waist...the ultimate V-taper, if you will. Not to mention, I am taunted every time I go shopping by the elusive size 6, which I am growing to realize, I will never be. Not unless I give up and have bone surgery!

Until I let go of that image in my mind, I am forever going to be the monkey trapped with its fist in the jar, refusing and stubborn, determined not to let those nuts go.

I need to find a new image in my head, but what that image is, I don't know. I'm already forbidden by my husband not to read Oxygen!

Oh, well. Off to the gym. *wink* At least no figure competitors work out at my gym or else I'd never go there.