Does praying burn calories?

If you do 70lb kettlebell swings each rosary bead, you might have something.

Is this a serious post?

Why does this remind me of the Tom Lehrer song, The Vatican Rag? Granted, that song was making fun of Vatican 2 and it’s older than I am....

NorthCascades wrote: »

mtaratoot wrote: »

Does praying burn calories?

<snark> Only if you pray to the "One True God." </snark>

I founded the Church of Flowing Water in 2001 (I really need to get the website back up). We worship under the Temple of the Blue Dome. The tenet is that you never need to go into a building hewn of human hands in order to be in touch with all that is Universal. You just need to spend time on a river or the ocean, ideally under human power. I can attest that this DOES burn calories, but we don't really call it prayer. We seek enlightenment through water, gravity, and rock. Membership is open to all. Where you find water, there is life; where you find life, seek happiness.

Remember: This rock is mostly covered with water:

I've always gone to the Church of the Mountain Gods, from where the flowing water comes. Is that close enough?

Oh indeed. Some water is held in a solid state for a while. Even it its solid state, it does flow downstream. You are still worshiping in the Temple of the Blue Dome. And.... burning calories while doing it!

One of my first yoga instructors talked about their family going out every Sunday to the mountains or desert. They called it the Church of the Seventh Day Recreationalist. It was perhaps the biggest impetus for me to form my church. I've been honored to perform wedding ceremonies for a dozen or so friends (well, two dozen since it takes two to form a marriage). One of these folks became a minister in my church and gave himself the title Whitewater Evangelist.

One of my poems was published in American Whitewater Journal a couple years ago; perhaps the closest I can come to prayer:

On Returning

Home.
But not home.

In my space.
Yet displaced.

My true love is not at home; she is in the canyon.
My life’s travels take me far from her.
Our passionate visits are joyful but brief.

The sun sets over town; a glowing, beautiful, orange orb – a vision unseen from the canyon. The breezes in town still blow cool.

Yet something is missing – something big.

The whispers and roars of the wind and water are replaces by the whoosh of cars breaking the still air.

The cascade of warm water is welcome as it washes away the grit and grime and brings me back to the world of the clean. The sharp blade can bring me to the world of the neat and tidy. My love cares not about the grit in my hair or the hair on my face.

My garden is ripe with a bountiful harvest, yet I already hunger for sustenance that only water, rock, and gravity can produce.

Yes, my sister the river is my love, my sustenance, and my home. The time we spend apart is long. As the time passes, the longing grows. May the time be short until once again I am in the arms of the river as she cradles me and carries me with gravity towards the center.