I've spent way too many years resisting, neglecting and negating my body.

Wanting Diana Ross's hips instead of my own.

I can tell you for sure: Those days are over. Every morning when I wake up, before I steep my first cup of chai, I stand in front of the mirror in my pj's and bless my body—starting with my feet and legs, which allow me to keep standing, and ending with my head, which gives me the brainpower to execute my vision of empowering others.

From my beautiful perch atop the mountain of 60 (yes, I've used that phrase before on this page, and I probably will again—it's one of my new favorites!), I can see clearly how futile it is for any of us to have anything but praise and awe for these vessels that house our humanity.

All the years I dieted, complained and was less than satisfied with my shape have yielded to a new perspective, an appreciation for the body that's brought me this far.

These days, it's wonder I feel each time I get my annual physical and, during the stress test, hear the swoosh of my heart pumping blood.

It's a reminder that, whatever age you're at, life has its own rhythm. My goal is to stay in step and not take one beat of it for granted.


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