Lazy. Laziness. Lazing. Lazed. In whatever form it appears, I fear this word. What if I don't recover from a bout of laziness? What if lazy replaces inspiration and I backslide right back onto the couch? What if, indeed.
I'm wrapping up my fourth week and heading into my fifth week of this intrepid journey. If you're still reading this, gods bless you. If you've grown weary/bored/uninterested, well, I don't blame you--I might too, if I wasn't writing the silly thing! But, I digress.
I had a most enlightening conversation with a girl friend and realized something important: changing what I do, is just as important as changing what I think about what I do.
My body has protested many of the thousands of steps I have taken in the past month; my muscles have groaned in protest to the pushing and pulling I have been engaged in; my feet are demanding new shoes; I've never been so tired and had so much energy at the same time. Habits are forming, albeit slowly, in my own potatoey way. I am DOING. I hiked Camelback Mountain (just over a mile long, and nearly an equal distance straight up), it was very very hard, but I made it to the summit. And back. Barely, though--a kind stranger had to force feed me pink Gatorade because I was getting heat exhaustion. I jogged in Dreamy Draw Park--lots of hills, lots of rocks. I twisted my ankle on Friday during that venture. Ouches, but nothing ice, elevation of foot, and low-impact cardio can't heal! I played more tennis--and I'm getting worse. Anyone want to coach me? I know absolutely Nothing about the game. But I have a lot of fun bashing a neon greenish-yellow ball around with a racket and running all over the court, so it pretty much counts as a wicked good cardio session!
And then, my brain happens. You know the feeling: you're wrapped in the warmth of self-acceptance and accomplishment, patting yourself on the head, basking in the glow of others' encouragement, then, BAM. Your tape cranks to life. "Why do you even bother? You're only going to fail miserably. Even if you do manage to lose weight, you're still going to look terrible when your clothes come off. What's the point to all this? They're still all going to laugh at you. You are lazy, ineffectual, self-destructive." Etc., etc., etc...Sigh. The not-enoughs will kill any dream, every time.
So, getting back to that conversation I had with my girl-friend...I've developed a counter-punch to all that fear-based ('scuse my French) bullshit my mind manufactures when it needs attention. A mantra, a frame of mind, a refusal to prove those insidious tapes right. I am ready for this life--that is why I'm living it. I can do everything I'm setting out to do--that is why I'm doing it. I leave myself, my heart, my arms open--not to be hurt, but to welcome the next opportunity. I can accept the natural consequences of all of my decisions. I can make decisions to benefit myself, my family & friends, and lord help me, even the world. I am capable. I am learning. I am free. I am not those thoughts or those fears, just as I am not my successes or my aspirations. I am so much more than the sum of my parts. So are you.
Courage will never be enough of an antidote to nullify my brand of fear--too much ego in there(no really, check the word out again: cOuraGE). That brings me to that mantra I mentioned before: my new L word. Love. Love, love, love, love, love. With love, we cannot fail. Listen. You hear that? That is the sound of the tapes grinding to a halt, power lost. Love 1, Tape O. I win. So do you.