Playlist.
I have always hated the word "spiritual." Mainly because I tied it to lazy people who want to believe in god but can't make up their fucking minds on which one. Even though this was shitty and ignorant of me, I still feel like a giant hypocrite now that I find myself "gaining spiritual weight." Yes, they actually say that.
Today, I find myself to be very spiritual. One, because I kind of have to be. Step work doesn't really fly without it. Two, I have come to realize that "spiritual" means something else entirely. Specifically, it means everything, which is vague. Haha. I find spiritualism everywhere. Anywhere I am doing something routine and feeling something extraordinary. Working out, for example, has become spiritual.
There will probably never come a day where I enjoy working out. It's not something I consider pleasurable. Surprise, surprise, coming from the fatty. However, it is not as bad as it used to be because almost every time I do it, I lose myself in the process. Rather, I give myself to the act, I resign to it, and I feel myself thrive both physically and sssssspiritually. Ugh. I still hate the word.
The spiritual component of working out is definitely a result of the music I have been choosing lately. Pre-program, I would always choose something angry and fast, like Meshuggah or SOAD, to make me aggressive and pound my body into submission. Looking back, it was a bit punishing. However, it's not like I am choosing the happiest of songs these days. I've actually been stopping my shuffle on songs I used to listen to while lonely and sad as a kid. Smashing Pumpkins, Weezer, Radiohead. These are not cardio songs in any form.
They bubble my history of pain to the surface. And as I remember every detail, I go faster and faster. At first I thought I was running from it. Further punishing myself. But then I really felt as if I was running with it, through it, knowing that it will never go away but that I can still exist and even advance. It's the ultimate catharsis in its irony. As the song rises, at its point where it is the most emotive, at the point where the "me" 15 years ago would draw blood, I now transcend. I check out of my body. I am all memory and experience. I am past, present, and future. And as I come back, I come to peace with these memories, recognize their results, and trudge through it, knowing that I am just trying my best to heal.
Today, I find myself to be very spiritual. One, because I kind of have to be. Step work doesn't really fly without it. Two, I have come to realize that "spiritual" means something else entirely. Specifically, it means everything, which is vague. Haha. I find spiritualism everywhere. Anywhere I am doing something routine and feeling something extraordinary. Working out, for example, has become spiritual.
There will probably never come a day where I enjoy working out. It's not something I consider pleasurable. Surprise, surprise, coming from the fatty. However, it is not as bad as it used to be because almost every time I do it, I lose myself in the process. Rather, I give myself to the act, I resign to it, and I feel myself thrive both physically and sssssspiritually. Ugh. I still hate the word.
The spiritual component of working out is definitely a result of the music I have been choosing lately. Pre-program, I would always choose something angry and fast, like Meshuggah or SOAD, to make me aggressive and pound my body into submission. Looking back, it was a bit punishing. However, it's not like I am choosing the happiest of songs these days. I've actually been stopping my shuffle on songs I used to listen to while lonely and sad as a kid. Smashing Pumpkins, Weezer, Radiohead. These are not cardio songs in any form.
They bubble my history of pain to the surface. And as I remember every detail, I go faster and faster. At first I thought I was running from it. Further punishing myself. But then I really felt as if I was running with it, through it, knowing that it will never go away but that I can still exist and even advance. It's the ultimate catharsis in its irony. As the song rises, at its point where it is the most emotive, at the point where the "me" 15 years ago would draw blood, I now transcend. I check out of my body. I am all memory and experience. I am past, present, and future. And as I come back, I come to peace with these memories, recognize their results, and trudge through it, knowing that I am just trying my best to heal.