I was thinking of this recently, as I prepared for judo. DH & I have stopped going to tai chi and I really miss it, not because I enjoyed it per se but because it felt like it was filling some kind of a void. I no longer go to church on Sundays (and never really enjoyed it when I did), but more and more, I’m making judo a weekly thing. Of course, when I was at the height of my practice it was a quadweekly thing. Then, it was something to plan my weeks around, like another class. I went for the joy of going, for the people I met, for the excercise, and sometimes because it was expected of me (7AM Saturday judo made for some early Friday nights).

Recently, however, I’ve started preparing for judo. I study techniques and writings online. I seek out textbooks and read them (which reminds me, I need to make my way to a community college in Northridge, where there is the closest copy of a book by my new hero). There’s no physical difference (or even, sometimes, attitudinal difference) when I show up. But I feel like the fact that I prepare makes it more than just a thing I do. It makes it a practice.

When my sisters go to Mass, they confess a few days before, they don’t eat before they go, they prepare for the event. Is it the preparation that makes it sacred? The looking-forward-to as well as the making-sure-you’re-ready-for? That is my current hypothesis.

So although I do yoga every morning (and try to remember to do it every evening, too), although I meditate essentially every day, I think that my current spiritual practice is judo.