As I come to the close of a period of my life when I have been filled with more frustration, anger, and vitriol than ever before, it is worth investigating myself and determining whether I have been good to myself.
If I believe my religion, I believe that my body is a temple. Additionally, if I believe my religion, I am to put my body into subjection to my spirit. By so doing, I will prepare myself for the resurrection, when my body and spirit will be permanently united.
However, before that time, I must prove myself capable and worthy.
So. Have I?
In short. No.
I haven’t been a good steward.
I admitted that the last year has found me filled with more frustration, anger, and vitriol than ever before in my life. I have been more frustrated than I ever was when competitiveness ruled my life and the only thing that seemed to matter was winning.
So emotionally, I have been out of control and a poor steward.
I have also not slept well.
Bodies need recovery. Recovery takes time. Sleep is a necessary part of that cycle.
I find myself up at all hours of the night, sometimes due to frustration, sometimes due to changes in what I eat, and sometimes just because.
All of this inhibits recovery and keeps me from being a good steward.
I have not exercised consistently, if at all.
For 26 years of my life, I exercised hard at least 4 days a week. For another 3 years, it was intermittent. And essentially the whole time I’ve been married, exercise has essentially not happened. Too easy to be lazy I guess.
It’s not like my reasons for exercising before I was married were for physical attractiveness anyway. I exercised because it was my job. I exercised because I enjoyed it.
I’ve tried to exercise with my wife, but she gets frustrated that she can’t keep up with me, and I get frustrated that when I go her speed I’m barely moving.
I’ve tried to exercise separately from her, but it’s always seemed like she resented the time I spent away.
So I stopped exercising. It’s not a blame issue. It just hasn’t seemed worth the hassle.
Except I feel gross, out of shape, and can’t begin to to even the most basic of things I once could.
I could get back to that, but the momentum of laziness is hard to break. (“Objects at rest” and all that.)
And lastly my diet has been straight garbage.
I have an incurable sweet tooth.
It’s probably good I’ve never consumed alcohol. I’d probably fast become and uncontrollable drunk. My addiction is sugar.
And it basically means I’ll take every chance I can get to eat all the sweets in my house and yours.
We didn’t have much when we lived in Utah, but we lived with Jordan’s brother for 3 months after moving here, and his house is an uncontrollable smorgasbord of gluttony.
I lost all discipline I had about food while there.
Having constant worry and anxiety about the house I bought and constantly working excessive hours on it means I’ve done nothing but consume garbage meal after garbage meal.
So although I don’t physically appear much different than when I moved here (which is the only thing people around me seem to judge me by–they get fat and I don’t, so they at least have something to “prove” they’re unhealthy by), the only conclusion I can come to after significant self reflection is that I’ve been a poor steward, and am in significant need of repentance.
If I were to die right now, there is no chance I’d go anywhere but hell for what I’ve done to my body.