I started lifting weights again today. it wasn’t much and it was inspired by seeing Ernie Hudson’s monstrous (for his age) arms. That led me to believe that I had a chance to look good if I got my fit on. Weeks later, I picked up a pair of dumbbells, because I’m like that… If that is deeply delayed and flawed in execution of physical fitness. Yeah. I’m him. Which brings me to an old (and short) post about getting right called stretch and breathe.
Fact: We can all get sucked into the daily routine and, especially if we get behind on stuff, we can forget to take care of ourselves.
Fact: Healthy writers are better equipped to work than those whose bodies are constantly falling apart.
Both of these facts are influencing this ten minutes of conjecture and lecture. I want to be honest with you all: I can no longer touch my toes. No, it’s not a fat thing. I cannot stretch that far, my back hurts everyday, and until two days ago, I did not recognize that those two things could be connected.
We get this one body in life. In the futures of my imagination we will get multiple bodies (and planets) and have the opportunity for a do over or to recklessly neglect ourselves. However, in the time and space my temporary consciousness inhabits, I gotta stretch. I am beginning to accept and believe in the connection between body and spirit. I feel that I am a better writer when I feel better in my body.
That’s it. That’s the entirety of 3.91. You can click the number and check! I am often amused at how much or little I can eek out of this post-reptilian brain in 10 minutes. The breadth of that difference is a sight to behold. One of these weeks I’ll lean into a longer post for reflection. Then we get to talk a bit about what’s been going on in the Talismind that leads me to not be that writer all of the time.
What leads me to not be that fitness guy all of the time is that taking care of myself physically is not as much of a priority as it ought to be. I blame some of that (as I do with everything) on living conditions. You are who you surround yourself with, right? Eagles don’t fly with Pigeons. I fly with Pigeons all the dang time, so I cannot be that Eagle I want to be. I’m not even sure I have it in me to soar anymore and that bit of knowledge makes me sore, like the use of weights can make me sore and make me not want to lift anymore, but I gotta lift more in order to lift more in order to lift more and it is this I must endure in order to ignore the fact… Yes the fact… that I am constantly surrounded by pigeons and I don’t want to be anymore.
Some Thoughts:
- Got on one of them spoken word rhyming runs at the end there. I feel the old me coming through from time to time like when the sky is clear and you can tune into that station you love but don’t always get to hear. I need to hear myself loud and clear in order not to fear that change for the better may be near.
- Dang. Did it again.