The Tiniest of the Tiny Miracles

vintage-2-1418279I did not collapse over the weekend or die or get sucked up a drain pipe or any other such worries you or I may have had about crossing the imaginary temporal threshold between 2015 and 2016.  I am here, changed because every day changes you, but not changed because I have fully come to terms with my issues and resolved them as sometimes I have imagined in the past this passage would provide or make me capable of doing.  It, as the lady says, doesn’t have to be that way anymore, either.

Instead, I have a lot of hard, hard, back-breaking work to do.   So we can’t get overly hyper about January 1st.  January 4th and the return to work, relatively visionless and deeply concerned, are both on their way so, my friends, instead we get grateful of the last stretch of time to get quiet.  And from that comes a desire to be glad and to use this blog to refocus.

I have done lists of gratefulness before – I don’t think you can get too much gratitude. It centers you amidst your own universe, so you don’t get too far ahead or behind yourself.

    • I am grateful for this time, however poorly or grandly I spent it.   It, like every other 10-day stretch, went too fast regardless.
    • I am grateful as hell for the desire to work on the novel again.  Even if it takes a cheap reason like the cut of a character’s jib to get my rhetorical wheelhouse turning – it’s yet another example of the reason not bearing much on the result.  It is the work that matters and getting this strange and important part of my life together.
    • I am grateful I was willing to get on the scale today.  I am grateful because that was quite a scare it gave me. Like shit, howdy.  You can’t eat like you do, darling and expect to stay at the same not good but not scary spot forever.  Things do shift even if you aren’t watching them move. It makes sense out of a lot of odd body things I’ve been experiencing.  It also makes sense because I started tracking today.  I need to rearrange things here, but I need to share that every day because I SO don’t want you to know.  I live for your approval and eating shittily and saying, “yes, I did have four doughnut holes to match four garlic knots and a piece of pizza and some popcorn and I don’t feel bad about it” does have a strange power over me to actually make me feel – not bad – just alert to what I can do to look good for you.  Again, bad reasons, fine results.
    • Just about getting on my bike.  Don’t care that it’s 10:45p.m.  Gonna be that way a ton this year.
    • I am grateful for old Liz Phair songs, the Pharos Gate,  Lucille Clifton, the limbic system.
    • I am grateful for this meditation video and being able to relate to it.   And the School of Life in general.

Small Bites

Well, hidey-ho!  I think some of you or some of me was pretty sure that I’d not show up today.  Well, I don’t know.  I mean, I knew I’d be here but I wasn’t entirely sure if it would somehow be weird or mean less or not feel like it counts in the same way.  But everything counts.  The smallest cobbling together of willpower and accidentally not flaking out and getting lucky and just happening to have to deal with some bizarre situations can add up to mean that you’re suddenly where you want to be.

Suddenly, I’m where I want to be.  At least in the mental sense.  Physically, I’m in my old room at my parents’ house waiting out the heating guy who should call us tomorrow, I would think, after the holiday.  I don’t want to be at home, freezing, but I am looking forward to getting the furnace looked at and fixed and then working more on the house.  I was doing so well with my cleaning at night and being excited and revved up about it and then, situations – life, I suppose – have intervened and suddenly the whole place feels torn up again so that other “better” people can come over and clean it “properly.”   But that’s a stupid frustration that doesn’t mean anything other than me wanting control and ownership and the praise I would supposedly get for cleaning the house top to bottom and making it perfect, which is, admittedly, something I would never do.

So having gotten over my first emo convulsion of the new year, I realized that I had sort of made a commitment in the same way I committed to writing.  This commitment is about doing something with myself to lose weight and feel better.   If I was committed, that meant I had to take some kind of action today otherwise it’s just another resolution crashing and burning before it even gets out of the gate.  I need accountability and a method, just like I needed this site and the concept of 500 words.  So, I’m sparkpeopling it again.  I’m doing their 28-day bootcamp along with, I assume, hundreds of thousands of people out in the world who want to be back on track as the new year opens up.  This means exercising.  Not a lot, but a little bit every day.  At least ten minutes which is also like the five hundred words in that it seems like a lot until you get into it and then you realize you could just keep going and going and it’s as natural as swimming to a fish.

So I’ve done today’s exercise, I’ve eaten reasonably and am drinking water.  I need to finish the cup over there, actually.  I’ve taken before pictures.  I have all the tools, I have no limitations but my own brain and my own feelings.  It’s a matter, really, in the end, of letting it happen.

I can get so scared that being skinny is a loss of control.  Being healthy means facing the possibility that you might be unhealthy.  The anxiety and unhealthiness is in control.  Not me.

And today, I’m doing a little bit to take it back.

I’m here! And you are too!

And I think, just so I’m official, if we’re trying this again: I will participate in wordpress’ daily blog challenge thing, too.  Might as well if we’re already taking on the universe.