Move your stuff. Then move your body.
There is a saying in feng shui: move your stuff, change your life.
It is a good saying. But a house cannot do everything for you. You can clear every room, face your bed the right way and put a plant in every corner, and still wake up feeling like a sack of laundry. The home is half of it. The body living in the home is the other half.
The same four rules apply to both.
Keep the centre clear
The middle of a home is sometimes called Heaven's Heart. It sets the tone for the health of the whole house, so we keep it open, clean and free of clutter.
Your own centre is your heart and lungs. They want the same treatment, and what keeps them clear is movement that gets you breathing a little harder than usual.
Let the air in
A house needs its windows opened, even in winter, even for ten minutes. Stale air makes a stale home.
Most of us go from the house to the car to another building and back again. Open your own windows. Walk to the corner store. Walk briskly enough that you can feel it. It is what the lungs were built for.
Rest properly
A bedroom should be for sleeping. Take out the television and anything else that hums, blinks or reminds you of work. Choose colours and fabrics that soothe you, and if you know your best directions, turn the bed toward one of them.
A body that has not rested will not move the way you want it to the next day. The two go together.
Keep at it
Clearing clutter is never finished. The hard work is the first clear out. After that it is small habits, kept up, or the piles come back quickly.
Bodies are the same. One good week does very little. A small amount, most days, for years, does a great deal. It hardly matters what you choose. Swim. Walk the dog. Do tai chi in the garden in your dressing gown.
So here is the second half of the saying: move your body, change your life. Whatever your age, today is a perfectly good day to start.
I teach gently, but I cannot see you. If you have an injury, a new joint or a condition your doctor is watching, check with them before you begin.
From the archive. First written for my journal years ago, and rewritten for life after 50.
