I’ve just realized something. I have two houses. Of course, I live in one. But the other lives in me. Or IS me.
We all have a minimum of one house. And that is our body. I’m sure you’ve heard the adage: my body is my temple. Well, as much as I believe that’s true, it’s never really hit me because quite frankly, I can’t relate as much. I’ve never been to a temple, I am not super religious, and it’s someone else’s saying, not mine (LOL).
But, my body is my house. My first and the only house I’ll remain in from the moment I was born to the moment I’ll die. And the funny thing is, my body works hard to house me, not the other way around. I’ve dealt it some neglect over the years, and let a lot of clutter into this house, and generally not maintained its upkeep. Unlike my condo, which I keep clean every week, wash the dishes every night, do my laundry every Sunday (or my husband does this), and dust and broom it as needed, I haven’t taken the same care of my first house. I’ve let clutter in, let it pile and build up, let it gather and hoarded it. I haven’t done spring cleanings – although I’ve tried, they just haven’t been consistent. Not like the way I treat my 2nd house.
We all need to do a good job of taking care of our most important house. Because if we don’t, none of the other houses matter (if we can’t live in them happily, wealthy, healthy).