Intentional

I wrenched my back in the gym last Thursday while attempting a rather acrobatic bend and learned a lesson in humility.

This morning I read Steve Skojec's blogpost about needing to take more time for his health and his family, and I felt for him because Steve's in the same gritty line of work I am: slogging through the sewers of the Eternal City, exposing the spiritual fatbergs so that they can be cleaned out.

Steve is on an intermittent fasting diet, which is a very good idea for spiritual sewer-workers, I think, because of the temptations of grief-eating.  I grief-eat as I write stories about incredibly sad or horrible problems or events, abandoning my desk several times a day to get something out of the kitchen. When I remember, I stop myself and drink a glass of water instead. This really takes intention, though.
 
The one good thing about developing stress-induced belly fat is that it has made me more compassionate towards other woman carrying extra weight. There's an obesity epidemic in the UK, and only God knows how much pain is buried in the belly fat.

To face whatever it is that is wrecking our health and to do our jobs without allowing them to hurt us takes intentionality.