An Old Emergence

Well...not really. Over the last few years, I've written a few posts about the theology of my body and what that means in the greater context of my life and spirituality. The original post I made about the subject, funny enough, was exactly six years ago today. At the time, I tried to string together some disparate ideas on selfhood and exercise so that I could tell people I was starting P90X. Another post was about dancing in church. Another about eating organic food. I think I missed the point each time. I was going somewhere when I wrote about the dualism we often impose on conversations about physicality and spirituality, as though the spirit and the body are separate entities. As I think back over the years of my struggle with weight and body image, I am more convinced than ever that much of my spiritual and emotional well-being is rooted in how I encounter my physicality. In the past, when I've begun a journey toward physical well-being, I have done so divorced f

My bookshelves are filled with a fascinating array of texts from all across the spectrum. My paperback Harry Potter series (hardback is currently in storage) shares a shelf with my LGBT resource books and a small collection of hymnals. My "favorites" are wedged between a couple autobiographies and books about walking the labyrinth. But there is one entire shelf dedicated to books about theology. Just so I'm being transparent, about half my books are currently in storage. When I moved into my apartment in Philadelphia, I had to downsize to one bookshelf due to limited space. I had two meticulously curated piles of books upon packing my life up in DC. The books in storage don't mean any less to me, to be sure. But I knew there were some texts I wouldn't need for a year or two (and I won't go into the several tubs of books currently store in my parents' attic). I have realized, though, just how few of the books on my theology shelf have been fully read. I