I took my walk early yesterday just as the sun was peeking out. I had been dressed, bra-less, in a T-shirt and shorts for several hours, writing, doing yoga, folding yesterday’s laundry. Mornings are so exquisitely empty. I wake up early, excited for the day.

Sometimes I just have to get out of the house for fresh air to have a walking meditation.  Ham sa, I am that.  Ideas and stories come whole into my brain.   The one two one two feet in front of the other feeds my head with the movement.

I am walking bra-less and remembering the days when I was twenty-something and the girls were round and perky. Although I could always hold a pencil under them, now I can hold a cucumber without any trouble. As Maya Angelou says, “They are having a race to my waist.” My right one is winning. So why, as an old crone (see blog for burning) can’t I go au naturel and not cause a kerfuffle on the street. But I see that every man to a one has noticed that the girls are a little bit more jouncy today. Even the stiff men, who barely even nod though I’ve seen them for years, risk a glance.

I guess that’s the end of the experiment.  I will still have to head home early from gatherings just to let the girls out and rub my shoulders to ease the indentation from the bra strap. My women friends who are small breasted have no sympathy for me. I understand. But to me, the nipple is the key, to nurturing the young, to pleasing the lovers and truth be told my left one hits the jackpot every time. She’s definitely in cahoots with something down there. Remember when they said that, as if vagina clitoris were a bad words. As if all the other sweet descriptions and the ugly ones too were not enough.

I taught my three year old daughter the correct words.  They even had that plastic pelvis complete with fetus and vagina in her nursery school room.  She would tell her cousin, whose mother was pregnant, “The baby is in aunty’s uterus.  Can you say that–uterus?”

Perhaps the spiral of his/herstory will bring us to a new enlightenment and sex and its moving parts will not cause such a hullabalou but be taken in stride.  That’s just how we like to roll, Sir.