Our human spirit

This has been brewing for a while, but has had less polish than a begger's best silver...
A couple of days ago, I was mulling over the fact that it seems 'sacreligious that our ordinary selves be involved in this journey of ours'. Know what I mean? Having to adjudicate in spats between Zoe and Aaron, and us arguing about which off-ramp to take while driving. Even eating our personal meals [feasting with friends somehow seems more noble], keeping our toenails clipped, finding another toilet for Zoe, deciding that yesterday's tshirt is still not smelly enough to warrant a full laundry load... seems to detract from the grandeur of the vision, the beauty of the journey, that my actual self is somehow tainting the purity of it.
I've been wrestling with this incongruity and it's a division of my own making [I reckon]. In the past I have found comfort in a monk's place of silence - separating my physical from my spirit, as though my body has no place in heaven - but I don't think a full life is to be lived out there. When I feel I'm living a full life, the ordinary is full of food and feasts, good wine, and beaches, and sport, towering trees, huge farts [all too often I'm afraid] and laughing so hard I can't control my saliva... and companionship, planning a life, brushing the hair from Zoe's eyes when she's asleep, good loving [not often enough I'm afraid], dreaming of what might be, sharing people's stories, watching mine unfold... all of the stuff that is 'ordinary' - but FULL of life.
If life in the spirit is anything at all, it has to be about these things. Ok, maybe not the farts.
Hopefully we return from this trip more ordinary than before...