My Body is My Temple

When a person is in their twenties or thirties, making the statement “My body is my temple” makes some sense.  But at this later stage of my life I have a kind shack thing going on over in my direction.

I have crooked window shutters and weathered siding.  My roofing is looking a bit battered.  Inside, a few paintings are hanging crooked.

I am not complaining.  I feel pretty good.  Yesterday, between rain showers, I even managed a four-mile hike on Mount Helena with my friend Jeff.

I think, at this point, I will go with this: “My body was earned.”

Me.                                                                                      

Jeff.

--Mitchell Hegman