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So I weighed myself this morning and have hit the highest number I've ever been. I won't say the exact number, but let'sjust say I'm getting uncomfortably close to 300 pounds. My immediate reactions was, "Oh crap. That's not good." And, objectively speaking, that's true. It's not good. Not good for my physical health. Not good for my mental health. And not good for my spiritual health.

I've done a lot of different diets and followed various plans. I'll get a month in and drop 20 pounds, only to eventually fall off the plan and put the weight back on in another month. I'm sure you've heard the saying before - make a lifestyle change, not a quick fix. I 100% agree with this, though I'm still figuring out what I want that lifestyle to look like.

I've been working with a personal trainer for around 9 months. During that time, my weight has fluctuated around a 10 pound number. I told my trainer that I want to lose weight, but I'm in this for the long haul. I want to make changes that will carry me the next 35 years. Even if it takes 2 years, I want to do something sustainable. I need to lose body fat to be healthier and the impatient side of me wants to see immediate, quick results. But the wiser part of me says slow and steady is longer-lasting and better for health.

While the scale hasn't reflected what I want, these 9 months have given me a needed mindset shift. My trainer has helped me adjust my attitude towards food and fitness. Getting healthy doesn't have to be punishment. I can work towards a goal while holding a nuturing perspective towards my body.

It took me about 10 years to gain close to 100 pounds - essentially 10 pounds a year. During that time, I had fairly negative self-talk. I would tell myself things like: You're weak. You have no will power. You look terrible. This is too hard for you to do. You've really let yourself go. What's the point?

I've learned over the past 9 months to be more kind and gracious. Carrying extra weight doesn't mean I'm a weak or bad person. It only means there is potential to adjust some habits. To find better coping strategies outside of eating. To treat food as nourishment rather than anesthesia. 

I've had some spiritual trauma that coincided with this weight gain. I used to be a music leader in my local church. I won't go into the details now, but I had a falling out with the church staff and found myself questioning everything about the faith I was brought up in. I lost my certainty and turned to food to fill the hole.

I've been on a journey since then to find my new center. Something foundational that I can stand on. I'm still on my journey, but I have realized one thing. The spiritual life and the physical life are connected. There's an old belief system called Gnosticism, loosely translating to "hidden knowledge." The Gnostics believe the physical is evil, stemming from the demiurge, a fallen god. Whike I do believe in the idea of digging deep to find truth, I don't buy the idea that the physical world is evil. Sure, the physical is more dense and requires work to walk in it versus the mental or the spiritual. It's easy to sit still and passively live a life of no movement. But is it thriving in this present moment? Is life more fulfilling with limited mobility and getting winded walking up a flight of stairs?

Maintaining a level of fitness doesn't happen automatically. I can see that it requires being intentional. That being said, I'm coming to realize there's value in the struggle. The soul can grow in this physical existence. The physical isn't bad, it's just challenging.

I've always been a cerebral, existential soul. Thinking comes easy to me and I can get lost in it. These past 10 years have been a period of thinking through my theology and philosophy while neglecting the physical. I've dimished the importance of the physical and in so doing, I've lost a part of what this human experience is about.

The number on the scale today is a bit of a wake-up call. The past 9 months have been great for changing my mindset. Now it's time to get a little more focused. To step away from the nihilistic thoughts of "Meh, who cares? This body's going in the ground anyways." Instead, to focus on the idea that the physical and spiritual are connected. Neglecting one also neglects the other. Taking care of my physical body is connected to taking care of my soul.

The name of this blog is The Spiritual Belly. I want to connect my physical health with my mental and spiritual health. I want my inner transformation to begin to show on my external. This journey is an important one and I want to chronicle it, pausing to reflect on what it means to change one's body and one's mind.

Let's go.

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