My partner often says this silly line to me. Yes, he is the only one bringing in the bread. BUT he doesn’t mean it in the monetary sense. He expects me to “pay” for my sweet life that he supports so generously with a sense of purpose (doing something meaningful with my life, e.g. raising my youngest child mindfully, writing my book, keeping myself fit), being contented and happy, and living each day to the full.
So whenever I fuss and sweat over the small stuff (like green smoothies or my daughter’s misdemeanours), he would get annoyed and say, “Don’t expect to live here for free, OK?” On the other hand, whenever he’s away, he loves receiving photos of what I get up to with my life in his absence:
RENT FREE LIFE?
I thought about this and write about it for one very good reason that I hope will make you look at your body differently:
For the past week, I have skipped my runs and yoga practice. My excuse was my blood pressure was up and I needed to take it easy – but really, since when had a little jog and gentle yoga killed anyone?
I got up late, lazed around, went out for long lunches. I snoozed in the afternoon, though my yoga mat stared accusingly at me. Oh, it’s hard to get back on the mat when you stop!
I inspected my body in the mirror. It still looks the same. I don’t need to exercise then, do I?
And then a little voice niggled at me: “You don’t expect to live here for free, do you?”
I am 50-years-old. I have the fitness of a 35-year-old. I am honed, toned and healthy. That’s because I have been paying a high “rent” to live in my body: I run along the beach almost everyday, I do yoga regularly and I eat clean. That’s the rent I pay to live in the body that I enjoy.
So, back to the mat for me, and then out with my running shoes later. It’s tough….I am in arrears. But I have to pay this rent. Because I love living in my body, and I have no other option of moving somewhere else – this body is the only house I have.
Psssst, how much rent do you pay to live in the only home you’ve got?