Exchanging the Hope for "Salvation" Later for the Peace of Acceptance Now

"Lose 10 Pounds in Just Two Weeks!"

"21-Day Countdown to a Better Body!"

"New Exercise Plan Will Help You Reach Your Ideal Weight Faster!"

Have you ever noticed how future-oriented our culture's devotion to thinness is?

This devotion starts with the assumption that the body you have right now is not okay. The promise is that with the help of such and such product, program, or plan, your body can be saved (i.e., made thinner).

The futuristic thinking that pervades The Religion of Thinness reflects the other-worldly orientation of the religious tradition that has most influenced our culture, namely, Christianity. Bestselling author and biblical theologian Marcus Borg once commented that this futuristic orientation-particularly the emphasis on heaven in the afterlife-is one of Christianity's worst contributions to religion.

It may also be one of its worst contributions to our society. For this forward-looking mindset encourages us to envision our happiness as a distant dream, something we will hopefully experience in the future, when everything is finally perfect, when our problems at last disappear. For many women, this long-awaited, heavenly period translates to mean: "when I lose enough weight."

The idea that being thinner will make us happier is predicated on the assumption that we cannot be satisfied with the bodies we have this very moment. Fulfillment is forever just a few pounds lost away. Many women find it impossible to imagine accepting their bodies just as they are. Needless to say, countless commercial diet programs capitalize on this lack of acceptance, pledging to cure it even as they encourage it with endless promises of improvement.

The inability to accept our bodies as they are-right here and right now-is a weight so many of us have carried for so long, we may not realize what a heavy burden it is or just how much energy it consumes. But constantly resisting our own flesh and its appetites is exhausting. It is also the source of much suffering. For our desire for things to be different than they actually are causes us a lot of pain.

Acceptance is not the same as resignation. There is nothing passive about it. Acceptance is rooted in courage-the ability to think and act and love in spite of the risks, apparent or real. It takes courage not fantasize our lives away with dreams of a more perfect body; it takes courage to stay present to the difficulties of our lives, without escaping into food or weight-loss rituals; it takes courage to rely on relationships that affirm the wiser part of ourselves, the part that knows our lives are much bigger than the size of our bodies; it takes courage to shift our attention away from critiquing the size of our thighs to challenging the norms of a culture that worships an emaciated ideal; it takes courage to find new ways of creating meaning in life-ways that don't depend on our self-destruction; and it takes courage to eat, rest, and exercise in ways that respect and nurture our bodies, hearts, minds, and spirits. This is the courage of acceptance. And like the web of a spider, it is much stronger than we might realize.

The Buddha instructed his followers that happiness can only be found in the present moment, when we accept things as they really are. In a similar vein, Jesus taught that the kingdom of God is at hand. It is "already in your midst," he told his baffled disciples.

What would happen if instead of postponing your happiness until a time when you lose enough weight, you decided to be content with your body right now? What would you do with the energy you used spend hoping and waiting and working for a more perfect figure? What if you exchanged the hope for "salvation" later for the peace of acceptance today?