If I treated my home as I treat my body, how would that go?

Would I constantly be thinking of what I wished was different? Would I beat myself up over the size of the windows, the condition of the wooden floors, the square footage? And if I did this, when would I actually live there? When could I really be present enough to relax, breathe and be joyful in my own home?

If I treated my home as I treat my body, those moments of peace would be rare indeed.

As a student of A Course in Miracles, I am being taught that I am not a body, but I still feel like I am. And as such I think of my body with a great amount of guilt, shame and a healthy dollop of criticism.

Yet, while I do this work, this forgiveness, it is my home and perhaps it would be helpful to be willing to let go of that which I cannot change.

I cannot change my freckles or my pale, Nordic skin. I cannot change my clear, blue eyes or my delicate feet complete with two long second toes. I cannot change my small hands, my long nose, nor my wide, curvy hips.

What I can change, though, is how I think about my body. What I can change is my perspective on what my body is for. And I can be present here, not wanting to change the outside and instead giving thanks for what I have so that I may be a vehicle… A vehicle for peace, for guiltlessness, for forgiveness.

We live in a small city in Southern Ontario. We have a nice, little house and I am so grateful to be here. It has large windows letting in plenty of light, lovely wooden floors and it’s just big enough for the three of us. I am happy here. I don’t know how long we’ll live here, but in the meantime I’ll just enjoy. So what if…

What if I treated my body as I treat my home…A place to be until its purpose has been served and I am ready to move on?

Hm. I’ll have to pray on that.

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