Inherently lazy?

Or perhaps hereditary lazy....either way I think I have a problem!

I go to bed each night thinking tomorrow is the morning I will wake up feeling refreshed and ready to go to the gym, each morning I fail to complete my task. This is a problem I have struggled with for most of my life. Growing up there was no emphasis put on sports or activity of any kind, I mean I was fortunate that we had a pool in the backyard and bikes in the garage so it not that we sat in front of the 'idiot box' as my grandmother liked to call it, but organized, scheduled activity was simply not a priority.

As an adult it became more apparent that I was uncoordinated with little balance so I was not inclined to join up for any kind of sports, then came parenting and even harder single parenting....who had time for something I did not particularly enjoy. The problem is now my babies are grown and have flown the nest and I am still lazy! OK, perhaps I am being a bit hard on me, I am more unmotivated than lazy but the outcome feels the same when one's health is involved.

So how do I motivate myself to get up and move? Overcoming the emotional hurdle may very well be the hardest part!! I have spent a few days doing some research and here are a few of the things that I think may help.

1. Remind myself why
2. Define a goal
3. Start with small steps
4. Make it fun
5. Reward myself

So the why seems pretty obvious. . .  health. There are numerous studies that document the adverse effects of a sedimentary lifestyle and I have beautiful grand-babies that I want to be around to play with for a long time. That takes care of number 1 & 2

I have started doing yoga and I really it. Funny that somehow this does not feel difficult to do as long as I have allotted at least an hour so I can emerge feeling refreshed and ready to face my day. I certainly feel as if I have more energy so I guess this is the small step I need to gain more motivation.

That leaves me with attempting to make exercise fun (afraid I have not found the fun factor yet). I am not quite sure how to accomplish this but while I try to define the fun in exercise I should think about the reward.  I think I may see a new pair of shoes (Fleuvogs perhaps) or maybe a chunky & funky necklace in my future! What kind of reward motivates you?

“People often say that motivation doesn’t last. Well, neither does bathing – that’s why we recommend it daily.”

Zig Ziglar

Do you think God does Yoga?

I am not trying to be sarcastic or a heathen but for whatever reason I could not help but wonder this morning if God did yoga? As I attempted my warrior poses I could picture how majestic God would look (especially compared to me) with His graceful ability to balance perfectly. I asked a good friend who just happens to be a yoga teacher and her response was "of course! Breath of God - He is all about breathing!'

Yoga literally means union in Sanskrit, union of body, mind and soul.  I am of the belief that if we use this union to praise and connect with God, He will be absolutely thrilled that we are choosing to spend some time communing with Him. Now please, no hate mail, I understand that everyone has a different view ranging from a wonderful, calming work-out to new-age mumbo jumbo. Regardless of your view I have to say it is some of the toughest exercise I have ever done and during the past 6 months I  have found it to be an excellent tool in my ability to focus on the good in my life while exploring more of the characteristics in my life that I feel God may like me to improve.

This weekend I had the pleasure of taking a class that a friend was teaching at the beautiful Haven Yoga & Wellness studio....the catch was that it was a wee bit more challenging than I was prepared for (did I mention that I have been doing mostly light chair yoga due to some knee issues). That said a good yoga teacher apparently adapts for her students so a chair was procured and I was showed how to use it as a stabilizing prop when doing some of the planking style poses. I thoroughly enjoyed the class and wondered if I had gotten 'anything' out of it with my adapted poses, perhaps I thought, I was simply not good enough to do the tougher class. Oh was I wrong!  It felt good to be challenged so  the next day I looked up some on line classes for plus size women and found Helen Camisa! Her blog inspired me to focus on changing how I feel about myself as a 'woman of size'.  As I have used some of her tricks and adaptations I feel fantastic about being able to better do something I love without feeling the body shame that usually comes with this kind of exercise.

So as I have spent the last few days engaging in yoga I have been able to adapt my mindset as well. I do not do the yoga that Google pictures are full of, mine is a bit different and for the first time in a long time the shame of my 'size' has not stopped me. I have felt that union between myself and my body, it is not perfect but it is mine.

I feel refreshed and renewed....and for the first time in a very long time I have felt the breath of God.

He heard my cry...

Psalm 40: 1-2 The Voice

1 I waited a long time for the Eternal;
    He finally knelt down to hear me.
    He listened to my weak and whispered cry.
2 He reached down and drew me
    from the deep, dark hole where I was stranded, mired in the muck and clay.
    With a gentle hand, He pulled me out
To set me down safely on a warm rock;
    He held me until I was steady enough to continue the journey again.

I have cried a lot in the past few years. I have cried as I grieved the loss of loved ones, hopes and dreams. I have cried as I watched those around me encounter burdens that felt very unfair and made my heart break. I have cried as I endured health issues. I have cried for my babies as I while watching them face difficulties in marriage, fertility and gender. I have cried for my grand-babies as I watch them face some medical hurdles that others avoid. I have cried as I felt my hands tied while life moved on around me.  What I have failed to do, more often than not, is to cry out to God.

My life has been deeply divided the past few years. That is a loaded statement I know, one that I will unpack and share with you as we move forward in our pondering but for now lets just say I was tired of the repeated blows and I did what any fragile being would do, I retreated into myself. It seems a person can only ask for so much prayer and have so many crazy stories and tragedies before they feel as though it is just too much. I stopped sharing. My Christian friends would call it walking through the desert but I must admit I simply made a choice, a choice to be silent. And yet, although I chose to remain silent, God still heard me cry.

While looking at my devotional this morning I read this:

The deeper the mud and mire in which we find ourselves, the more brilliant the rescue when we are lifted out. Great darkness, it seems, is best suited for seeing great light.
Burkholder, Kyle. Psalm 40: A 30-day Devotional on Despair, Deliverance, and the Joy of Singing a New Song (pp. 12-13)

 I am ready to see some great light, some days I sense it is right around the corner and others I still feel the isolation and the inkling of despair. As I prepare to leave the state of melancholy behind I have decided that a class on the Psalms would be a good idea, after all David seemed to perfect the ability to lament. I look forward to gently be placed on a warm rock until I am steady enough to continue the journey again.