There was a life in the cold house today. Cold mornings have always seemed more alive than warm ones to me. I breathed in the cold air, feeling life enter my lungs. I set my feet on the cold wood floor and pushed myself off the bed.
I shivered, going down the stairs and into the bathroom. I turned on the shower and stepped in. The warmth of the water flowed over me, relaxing my muscles. I stood still for a minute, just feeling the water hit me, thinking.
I shut off the water, and opened the curtain. I pulled my towel in with me, drying myself vigorously. I hung up the towel, and walked back upstairs to dress.
I dressed quietly, thinking about what I needed to do today.
I finished my morning chores, and turned on my car to let her warm up. I came back inside and went to my room. I lit the three candles on my altar, and stood before my Gods. I put my necklace on, and stood quietly for another moment. Then I dropped and gave my Gods 25.
The process of doing pushups during my morning and nightly devotionals helps me in numerous ways. First, there's the completely functional aspect: it keeps me doing pushups. Second, it becomes a form of sacrifice. Finally, it shows my willingness to better myself.
I'm a firm believer that exercise of some sort should be part of everyone's daily rituals. Not only would we have Pagans who would be good to look at when skyclad, but we'd also outlive all the other religions, which alone would be pretty cool.
I'm thinking about an altar to Heracles when I get a weights set.
When I finished my devotional, I went to work.