Honor Your Temple

I’ve always resented gym rats. I suppose deep down I’m jealous of them. All that dedication and determination. The thought of dragging myself to the gym makes me roll my eyes and reach for another doughnut. I’ve started countless exercise classes, joined many gyms in January and vowed eternal commitment to something I knew I wasn’t going to do. I always ended up feeling like a quitter, making new promises every day, and faltering on most. 

When we are heartbroken, our energy goes to getting out of bed and brushing our teeth. I’ve spent many days wearing the same clothes and convincing myself that a shower every three days would suffice. We simply don’t have the energy to think about exercise, much less do it! Over time, I have re-framed my thoughts about exercise and nutrition. I now refer to it as “Honoring My Temple.” There is something sacred about loving and nurturing your body back to health, one dreaded step at a time. 

Through my teens and into my early twenties, I was obsessed with my weight and body image. It partly stemmed from my mother’s constant negative remarks about my looks. She would put her finger up to my face and declare, “You need to do something about that blemish,” or “I think you’ve gained a little weight, you might want to limit your portions.” The media didn't help. After all, we are bombarded with messages of eat this, don't eat that, lose weight, be prettier, be skinnier. The unhealthy messages flow into our minds as easily as the flip of a channel.

Through years of therapy, I was able to heal that within myself that placed value on my looks or the numbers on the scale. Still, Honoring My Temple continues to be a daily dose of determination. I’ve learned to soften the demands I place on myself. I’ve faced the reality that I’m not going to get up at 6 am to attend a Zumba class nor am I likely to drink as much water as is recommended.

In January of 2022, about three months prior to Jon’s death, I did what millions of other people do at the flip of a calendar year. I joined the local Y and hired a trainer. I had the good fortune of signing up with a delightful trainer by the name of Traci. She made it clear to me she was not interested in how much weight I wanted to lose or how my clothes fit. She was interested in my overall health. We began a journey together that would set me on track to be in the best health I’ve ever experienced. We took a holistic approach to healing through…drum roll….exercise! I was nurtured towards better health.

Then, just four months later, my Tsunami hit. I texted her with the news of Jon’s sudden death. Her response was brief, yet meaningful. “I will be here when you are ready. Don’t forget to breathe.” Over the next few months, she would send me short, encouraging messages. “Don’t forget to move your body.” 

It would be several months before I would get back to our training sessions, but I believe it helped heal my ravaged soul. I would show up to our sessions in tears, sobbing as she lovingly said, “You can cry all you want, but pick up those weights.” And so I did. 

Almost two years later, I'm in the best physical shape I’ve ever enjoyed in my life. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been. I look forward to moving my body. I’ve learned the value of a deep breath, something I now cherish and seek daily. I’ve learned how my body works and why I want to strengthen certain muscles. I’ve learned the value of having strong bones and muscles. I’m stronger mentally and physically. And I feel better. 

You don’t have to join a gym or hire a trainer to gently start loving your body back to health. Begin with something simple. Drink an extra glass of water a day. Take a walk or a gentle yoga class. Schedule a physical. Take a nap. Yes, take a nap. The restoration of your mind and body is vital when you are tending a bleeding heart. 

Most importantly, just do something to move your body and care for your Temple.

After all, it is carrying precious cargo!