If my glass of wine with dinner is a knock of the gavel announcing the conclusion of my waning day, then my morning shower is a calling to order of all of my senses, so they can administer the justice of my impending day. My warm shower, in a darkened bathroom, is a daily rebirth of all I am, and all I am about to be. This daily sanctification fosters a synergy between my consciousness, my physicality, and my environment. My morning shower places me gently into my day.
As my skin receives the water, my body and mind awaken slowly. Thoughts begin to form, ideas take shape – inside my head I build my day. The remains of yesterday are washed from my skin, from my mind, and momentarily I am pure again.
I contemplate. Seated on the shower floor, I pray. I attempt to connect with whoever might have created me. I seek to establish a dialog which might help this pure state linger longer. I offer information to my maker, in exchange for a silent reinforcement of my morality.
I review. Still seated and water falling from above, the actions of the day prior are scrutinized in my head – picked apart as a means of learning what might have gone wrong – of why yesterday was not perfect, and how today might be.
I Vow. Still seated, water still falls. A plan is made to learn from yesterday’s mistakes that they not become repeated. Ways of conducting my behaviors for the day ahead are assembled in my head, and are repeated aloud with absolute concentration. Perhaps this will help.
My inner head intact, the warm water continues to fall onto my outer head and into my mouth – my dry tongue is delighted by the clean taste. Slowly I stand as the water softens my muscles making them more pliable, and I begin a routine to stretch my limbs and my torso to ready them for a day of movement. Each stretch is a functional luxury, and an inventory of what I am made of. The routine culminates when the warm water fades to cool, and I feel alive.
This morning ritual is probably the closest I get truth all day long, aside from looking into the eyes of my dogs. I cherish these moments though I know here, in Southern California where water is linited, this is a very selfish act. My shower only ends when the hot water runs out. Energy and water used unnecessarily I know. Still, I accept the sin and ask forgiveness for the trespass.
My morning shower places me gently into my day, and this ritual is as important to my fitness psyche as the rituals of movement and rituals of right eating. Mental preparation – visualization, lend themselves to success. Be well. rc