Growing old? At 30? Oh no! I used to believe myself to be young looking, someone who is infact a LOT younger than my age. Now why the sudden feeling of growing old? Didn’t I believe myself to be timeless? ageless? Isn’t growing old merely a product of the mind and of the many beliefs we have of aging?
I still believe that my spirit remains intact and young, ageless and eternal. But as to my physical self, I must admit that I had been a bit negligent in taking care of it. I didn’t eat sufficient fruit and vegetable servings, forgot (or should I say intended to forget) taking my vitamin supplements, missed my workouts and routine exercises. Is it a wonder then that I feel easily worn out and out of strength?
Anything that we do not give proper attention to eventually breaks and fades away, anything not utilized eventually loses its strength. We are not mere spirit that we must forget the vehicle we are using at the moment to perform our divine commission. We have our physical selfs we must recognize and take care of if we want to continue living healthy fruitful lives in this lifetime.
If we don’t, our body has a way of telling us something is wrong. It can be in the form of weakness, pain, or sickness that would trigger our attention and make us wonder why this has happened despite all our arrogance of doing our best to think positively and take care of our souls.
Thinking about it now, I’ve realized I haven’t had much use for my body lately other than sloppily sitting infront of my computer, performing routine chores like eating and bathing, and walking around not even aware that I still have a body with me that I can use to live joyfully and passionately, completely and in a balanced way.
Realizing that, I knew I had forgotten how to use my body more as an expression of love and compassion, a form that carries out the substance of spirit I’ve always been talking about. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be more aware of using my hands perhaps, clasping another hand and bringing comfort and assurance? Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be more aware of being able to use my eyes to convey my sincerity when listening to someone else’s soul? Wouldn’t it be more wonderful to be able to dance when my spirit dances, experiencing such unity and harmony between body and soul, mind and spirit, flesh and breath, in every step, in every graceful move?
In that way, the body will not be forgotten, will not be neglected, even at the boastful claim of being more focused on things above or of the spirit.
Check Jocelyn's books:
"Of Waves and Butterflies: Poems on Grief", "Mend My Broken Heart", "Questions to God", "To Love an Invisible God", "Defending My Catholic Faith", and more - click here.
(You may freely quote excerpts from this website as long as due credit is given to author Jocelyn Soriano and the website itakeoffthemask.com)