Advocating for the body
I have difficulty getting moving, sometimes: getting out of bed; getting up off the couch; putting down the book; turning off the television.
Even though I often think, boy, I need to get to bed sooner so I can get out of bed earlier and GET THINGS DONE (the driving guilt of my life), every night I just want to stay suspended in time, play in someone else’s world. And the best part of waking up? Snuggling back into the dark warmth of the snooze–for it is a magical time, those snooze times. I've done the obligatory resting of the body; now I get to drift in a world that exists without any effort of mine.
Not gonna get up. Can’t make me.
Things I have read and heard say it’s the habit of the body, the body's fault--that I feel inclined to inactivity. I need to take control, tame the body like I would taming an animal. Force myself to get up, get out, exercise; have will power to deny those physical cravings; turn away from the sins of the flesh.
Frankly, I have never tamed an animal in my life. Fought for dominance with my cat, yes. Tamed, no.
And while I can attest that some things, some cravings, some habits of thought and feeling are patterns written into the physical form, I don’t think the body is to blame for my somulance.
Because I do feel better when I am active. When I finally get out of bed and do something, I feel the blood flowing again. My body loves to be outside; loves to walk around; loves to yoga and dance. My body loves the way my house feels when it’s clean. My body enjoys the taste and the feeling of eating hummus and veggies; soup; nut butter I’ve made myself.
So I don’t think I can go around blaming my body for the time I spend snoozing and reading and dreaming. My mind, possibly even my spirit, would much prefer to stay in bed, visit someone else’s world, drift in the mindless dreamtime. Everything is easier in the energy realm, and I am used to being there.
But my body? My body loves to be up and at ‘em. And it's glad I am finally getting with its program.