An incredibly gorgeous day...wind, sunshine, heat...the only thing missing was the ocean. I attended a lovely wedding at St. Patrick's church in Victor, New York. I sat in the old wooden pew, thinking of the hundreds of services which have taken place there over the years...the sun streaming down through the gold and purple glimmers of the stained glass...through the bottom opened panels...white blossoms, cotton wood, dandilion, pollen fuzz...all swirling around outside in the joy...the heated rays, the purple hope of a fresh June wedding day.
Everyone was cleaned, polished and neatly presented in the church in honor of the special day. I sat there, carefully balanced in pointy chic heels and marveling at the fact that the suit I was wearing fit...after four years of not fitting...I felt clean and polished myself. Why do we take the time on a lovely Saturday afternoon to get all gussied up? We do it because we recognize that committed love between a man and a woman is something to honor...to take the time to get polished up for...it is sacred.
I have not always treated myself as sacred. I have not always been careful about what I put into my body or onto it. I have not honored my body's need for balance, sleep, moderation and temperance. I have pushed and pulled, stuffed and forced and shoved and treated my body and mind in sloppy ways. Today as I sat in lighted purple, amidst the smells of perfume, old wood and furniture polish and candles...I resolved again to treat myself with respect and honor...life is sacred, not sloppy.
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