My body, My temple
When I first heard the idea of treating the body as a temple I was inspired by visions of purity and the body of a goddess (more Jessica Alba than Saraswati). I spent a lot of time reading about nutrition to find the most perfect vegan/macrobiotic/auryuvedic/raw diet and was certain that if I ate in this precise and disciplined manner and worked out 6 times a week that I would achieve temple status. Perhaps I would better know God and at the very least I would have the body I always desired which would definitely make my whole life better.
Of course this type of regime was incredibly challenging. There were weeks where I mastered my temple challenge but was later seduced by chocolate or nachos. These moments of weakness that followed such incredible austerity were unforgiveable. As I continued to treat my body as a “temple”, the anxiety within my body started to increase to the point that my inner body was vibrating at a startling frequency. This state of being demanded that I always be busy. Stillness was a horrifying place to find myself. Rather than finding the sanctuary of a temple in my body I discovered anger, deep sadness, frustration and fear. I was so hard on myself that I became hard. The awareness of what I “should” be doing brought great shame. So much so, I stopped wanting to go out because I felt that I wore all of this failure on me for the world to see.
The words “you need to love yourself” haunted me. If I loved myself would my “temple” lose control and turn into the skydome? And yeah, I understood the theory but how does one go about loving themselves …
Someone told me to fake it until I made it.
So I did. It required a lot of courage to be okay with the fact that I didn’t know where faking love would take me. It gave me permission to be more compassionate to myself and as a result I found more compassion for others. I started listening more to my body and actually found it easier to eat and exercise in a way that was balanced and nourishing. I even began to see myself as beautiful. In fact the more I started to honour and love myself for all the dark and light qualities the more my body came into harmony both physically and emotionally. Finally I could take refuge in my temple.
In my modest study of Hindu mythology I have always been very intrigued by the deities who reflect an extraordinary range of human qualities. Parvati often gets annoyed and angry when Shiva is gone meditating for too long. The gods and goddesses experience, rage, vanity and sadness. At the very same time they are expressions of bliss, wisdom, peace and love.
These myths teach us that we must embrace all of ourselves. That we can only understand our light with our dark and vice versa. A temple is a place of worship. It is a place where we can honour the light/beauty/divinity/goodness which connects us to everything. A place where we can respond with courage, wonder, love, and compassion when we find ourselves in the dark. With a sweet balance of kindness and strength we can gently guide ourselves toward the light.
My disordered understanding of my body as a temple leaves me with a scar, a scar that no longer has power over me but serves as an auspicious reminder of what it really means to treat my body as a temple.
Subscribe to comments