MOTIVATION: the gospel of sweat.
Do you pray through your pores? Is wherever you sweat your new sanctuary where you’re most in touch with your inner self? Interesting article about the new gospel of sweat. Read below…
a connection to something bigger
It was six months into living in New York City during a Daft Punk themed spin class that my sweat turned spiritual. The instructor was an angel by the name of Clare Veronica Walsh, and it was at that moment that I tapped into a strength that I had never experienced. As athletes, yogis, and dancers we all have a moment when we realize that our practice is our connection to something bigger than ourselves. This greater idea of community also provides a connection to something that lives within us, and a new responsibility to honour it.
In today’s culture, more and more people are building metaphorical sanctuaries on their spin bikes, temples on their mats, and churches within the walls of their dance studio. Times that were once reserved for religious service attendance, are now reserved with equal dedication for yoga and fitness classes. This kind of spiritual practice is highly individual in that the power is not in the search for answers, but in the recognition that we already have them. Whether through chaturangas or sprints, grande jetes or push-ups, we are peeling something very physical and mental away to tap into the core of our spiritual being. We pray through our pores, period.
Read more here: blog| the gospel of sweat - blog| lululemon athletica
I would like to think that fitness is my religion. It is were I find my sanity and gives me something to look forward to each day. Because frankly, I’m still pretty pissed at God. Everyone is so “blessed” and “thankful” for another day. And, yes, that goes the same for me as well. But it just leaves another chance for me to ask “why?” At any rate, I still put on my shoes, or climb on the bike, and go, thinking that, maybe, it will help provide me with an answer.
Just for future reference, don’t use words like “love” anymore. It’s a very sensitive word and it wears out quickly. Romeo barely says it, but John Hinckley filled up a whole journal with it. To put it into your terms, it’s a currency that’s easily devalued. Pretty soon you’re saying it whenever you hang up the phone or whenever you leave. It turns into an apology. Then it’s an excuse. Some assholes want it to be a bulletproof vest: don’t hate me; I love you. But mostly it just means - more. More, more - give me something more.
For one day you will look back and realize they were the big things.
Trust me… you will.
Like today, for example, starting my diet with McDonald’s breakfast probably was not the smartest idea. Thank goodness for another day.