Confessions of a Spiritual Couch Potato - Part I

Miracle Grow Fertilizer - Confessions of a Spiritual Couch Potato - Part I

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The other day I was thinking about my body and wondering where I went wrong. How could I have have gotten so out of shape, so off my diet, so neglectful of this beautiful corporeal expression of myself without even noticing the downward slide into that inglorious realm of existence that's come to be known as being a couch potato?

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Miracle Grow Fertilizer

Couch potato. The term itself conjures up images of some dim, vegetative consciousness happily ensconced in its living room watching Tv and self-fertilizing with buttered popcorn and beer. Where did I pick up that identity? My father was a workaholic and anything but a couch potato. I would have classified him as more of a healthy ear of corn: fast growing with golden tassels blowing in the wind. My mom was an energetic woman who filled her life with friends, family, and strangers. Maybe a cross in the middle of a sweet baking apple and a juicy pear. Both were all the time on the go. Both raised their children to be even more active copies of themselves and we were anything but couch potatoes in our chase of life.

It would appear that the roots of my couch potatohood lay buried somewhere in the dark recesses of my consciousness. It would take extreme effort on my part, but I promised myself that I would put down the popcorn and beer, begin myself off the sofa, and track this conundrum down come hell or high water. With various, rather loud corporeal processes that signaled the start of unaccustomed movement, my freezing joints creaked into activity and I was off and running... Well, at least ambling... Towards my goal.

The first stop was my office library. The couch potato in me rejoiced at the fact that, being a work-at-home writer, I didn't have to go far to begin my research. The Great Caloric Burn-off I felt so compelled to begin did not have to begin just yet. It would come after stoking my brain with the thinking framework it needed to gain some perspective on the current sad state of affairs. I was now in quest of sustenance for my mind, the kind of thinking nourishment I needed to meet this challenge. With the practiced eye and taste buds of a gourmand, I surveyed my choices. The menu was eclectic and full of promise. I could feel my synapses begin to salivate in anticipation.

That's more like it! slurp slurp... Not quite a chunky empirical bowl of pure science. Not quite a spicy cioppino of the emotions. This gazpacho was fresh and to the point: we can consciously override our programmed behaviors by exercising our free will. Nice. And worth retention on the back of my tongue as I savored my mind meal further.

I decided to begin with a light first course, an appetizer of verse in a poem by Pete Graf called Anatomy Lesson:

Fingers like poking and picking your nose
And prodding and probing and taking off clothes.
Legs are for walking and kicking and cramps;
Tongues are for talking and licking of stamps.
Arteries boost all the blood to your brain,
But basically backwards, it's all done in vein.
Gonads are great, though not for us all;
But if you are a man, then you'll have a ball.

Drink too much booze and your liver explodes;
Snort too much coke, you'll be blowing your nodes
Adenoids are an enlarged mass of tissue,
Subtract-a-noid and you'll have less of the issue.
You can sit on a Flag pole, but not at half-mast;
You'll be split in two places and rendered half-assed.

Yes. Munch munch...This had everything I was craving to begin with: a little zest, a bit of irreverence, and a determined freshness - all wrapped in a light, crunchy explosion of sensory titillation. I could feel my palate riposte to this stimulus and knew that I was in for more savory delights as I continued my explorations.

Soon enough, the first policy was over and it was time to select the second one. Sensing that it was time to shift gears slightly, I considered the varied jacketed soups filling the shelves in my office library. Which one to choose? Shall it be a creamy, full-bodied, chunky, empirical bowl of science chowder? Or a thin but tasty, artfully ready bouillabaisse of the spirit? Maybe a hearty burgoo stew or a rich crab pot of the body to provide the important corporeal vigor needed to do the heavy lifting important to search the origins of my potatohood. Such choices are never easy, but in the end, I opted for a gazpacho of new biological thinking called The Biology of Belief: Unleashing the Power of Consciousness, Matter and Miracles by Bruce Lipton, PhD.

Endowed with the capability to be self-reflective, the self-conscious mind is highly powerful. It can witness any programmed behavior we are engaged in, rate the behavior and consciously resolve to convert the program. We can actively select how to riposte to most environmental signals and either we even want to riposte at all. The aware mind's capacity to override the subconscious mind's preprogrammed behaviors is the foundation of free will.

That's more like it! slurp slurp... Not quite a chunky empirical bowl of pure science. Not quite a spicy cioppino of the emotions. This gazpacho was fresh and to the point: we can consciously override our programmed behaviors by exercising our free will. Nice. And worth retention on the back of my tongue as I savored my mind meal further.

In hope of the third course, I decided it was time for a brief visit to my garden to pick some fresh herbs for my salad. I suddenly realized that the shift from a thinking seven policy meal with written works on the menu to a easy conference of sustenance for the corporeal body was unexpected but not unnatural. My seven policy meal may have been contrived thoroughly in my head, but my body's need for real food became apparent nonetheless. So where was the artificial distinction in the middle of mind and body? Could that be at the heart of my adoption of potatohood as a way of life? Deep in thought, I ready my salad while vaguely aware of the pleasant scents of fresh basil and lettuce and the tang of lemon dressing ready to pour. I carried my plate of salad back to the library, ready for policy three...

Continued in Confessions of a Spiritual Couch Potato: Part Ii...

I hope you obtain new knowledge about Miracle Grow Fertilizer. Where you may offer easy use in your everyday life. And most importantly, your reaction is passed about Miracle Grow Fertilizer. Read more.. Confessions of a Spiritual Couch Potato - Part I.

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