Getting Close to the Source

I've lost thirty pounds in seven months.

The trigger came when I changed jobs.  My entire life became different.  One job instead of two.  Forty hours a week instead of somewhere between forty-eight and sixty-six.  A set eight-hour-per-day schedule instead of nebulous hours.  The list is long, and all of it has played a part in my enjoying an overall healthier lifestyle.

Have you ever heard of a CSA?  It stands for Community Supported Agriculture.  Its basically a farm share program.  The farm charges a set amount, and you can pick up fresh vegetables and fruit throughout the growing season.  My new employer affords the opportunity to participate, so my wife and I decided to give it a go.  For twenty-two weeks, we picked up between twelve to thirty pounds of vegetables, fresh and organic.  Some fruit and herbs were pick-your-own.

In the beginning, we weren't prepared for the onslaught of vegetables.  For example, three heads of lettuce per week, and these were not small heads.  My wife has spent the past months figuring out how to either use or preserve the plethora of fresh veggies coming through the front door.  She is an amazing cook, and has canned and preserved food previously.  This season gave her a run for the money.

My part in this was collecting the bounty, then eating more fresh veggies.  I like veggies.  Certain ones, others not so much, and yet others I had never tried.  The basics like lettuce, tomato, cucumber... no problem.  I liked celery in tuna fish, or cooked in a soup, but no way did I eat it raw.  Other veggies I couldn't stand.  But if I wanted to eat a more healthy diet, this was the way to go.

This new job has thrown some light on my thinking.  I always figured I needed the gym at least five times a week to improve my physical situation.  Recent opinion says weight loss is eighty percent diet, twenty percent exercise.  After this season, I am inclined to agree.  I haven't lifted a finger to exercise.

My diet has changed drastically.  I found hummus a while back.  Ate it when it was convenient, but not as a staple in my diet.  Wanting to increase my vegetable intake, I started using hummus as a veggie dip.  I can't fathom how much raw celery I've eaten this year.  Carrots.  Bell peppers.  Radishes.  Wait, radishes?  I don't think I've ever eaten a radish in my entire life, and now I love them.  Especially the white ones.  And my wife...  the soups...  Carrot soup.  Butternut squash soup.  This and That soup.  Sweep the Fridge soup.  Etcetera Etcetera Etcetera.  On and on and on.

And don't forget the fruit.  I am eating half an avocado five days a week.  Yes, I now like raw avocado.  Half a pomegranate as well.  Grapefruit.  Pick-your-own blueberries from July are waiting in the freezer.  I feel amazing!

So yes, I've lost thirty pounds.  When I started my new job back in the waning days of March, I weighed 254 pounds.  As of last week, I hit the 224 mark.  I hope to hit 220 by Thanksgiving.  I've always wanted to get back to my high school weight of 210, but now, with this new diet, I would like to hit 204 by next March 24th.  A goal of fifty pounds lost weight in a year.  I never would have thought that, but now it seems reasonable.

I have dieted previously.  I have looked at many diets, only to go back to the old habits, and gain the weight again.  A few medical symptoms of being overweight persist, but the one that bugs me the most is my doctor's diagnosis of Metabolic Syndrome, a mix of different symptoms that overall means I'm fat and unhealthy.  My highest weight of 282 pounds was definitely a problem, but was I really fat at my normal 240?  I've been around that size for a good number of years now.  Yeah, there was some pudge, but I felt pretty good.  Most of the time.

Add up all the diets, the conventional wisdom over the past few decades, add in the unconventional wisdom over the past few decades, and what we have is a hodge-podge of knowledge and opinion that settles down to this:  eat food as close to its natural state as possible.  Get close to the source.  The least processed, the better.  The best I can do is pick a blueberry, or any other fruit or veggie, from a plant and eat it.  Hallelujah, problem solved.  Of course, that doesn't work for all food.  I've never seen or heard of anyone peeling an eggplant, then sinking their teeth in and going to town.  Some food needs processing.  Cooking.  How much cooking and processing, and what we add or take away becomes the issue.  If I have to rinse a food like quinoa before I cook it, is that considered processed?  It all comes down to learning about the food you put in your mouth.

As I pondered all this, another thought became apparent.  Take a restaurant, for example.  If its a small, cozy place, and the menu is fresh and variable, then the cook can cater to the needs of the diners.  If the produce is locally sourced and highly available, the food can be freshly cooked and prepared according to the desires of the patrons.  As the restaurant grows in size, feeding more and more people every day, the local sources may not be able to keep up with the demand, there may come a need to travel further to acquire adequate stock, which requires longer storage and more processing to preserve the food and meet the diner's needs.  Maybe the restaurant becomes huge.  It can no longer cater to the individual desires of each patron.  The menu is set, the cook makes each dish the same way, as fast and efficiently as possible.  More processing, less individuality, and the food generally becomes less and less healthy as the size of the restaurant grows.  What was great for the individual patron in the beginning has become more processed and less nutritious.

The part B to the above paragraph is the behavior of the patron.  It isn't just about the food to be eaten.  Its also about the person who is eating it, and sometimes, how many friends are with them.  The choice of restaurant may be directed by social agenda.  After all, we are social beings, and it is good to participate in life with others.  But do the friends always desire the large restaurant?  If the patron wants to be social, then they must eat at the large, less healthy restaurant to be part of the crowd.  Maybe that's worth it socially, although not the best choice nutritionally.  If the patron were to find a smaller dining establishment that catered a higher degree of nutrition, but had to go alone, would it be worth the social sacrifice?

The rest of this blog entry is of a religious nature.  If you are finished here, I wish you health and good eating!. 

I'm calling this part "The Processed Gospel". 

Like food is our physical source of life, the Gospel of Jesus Christ is our spiritual source of life.  The knowledge of Christ comes from the Holy Bible.  It is available to us as individuals, in a very personal manner.  When we take in what we read, the Holy Spirit brings the words to life in our spirit, feeding us and filling us with God's truth.  Reading the Bible, prayer, and worship brings us as close to the source of Life as we can be. 

In our society, church has become the most well-known method of having a religious social experience.  Our primary purpose for attendance should be to hear Biblical teaching from someone who is more experienced than ourselves in religious matters, along with corporate prayer and worship.  In my experience, the pastor teaches what God leads, the worship leader chooses songs to nourish and inspire, and prayer is a few minutes of corporate spiritual agreement. 

Much like food, our spiritual health should comprise a mixture of personal sustenance and corporate nourishment.  Much like the restaurants above, where the cook is in control of what we eat, we should be mindful of who is speaking into our spirits. 

If people gather together in small groups, such as Bible studies, there is plenty of opportunity for two-way conversation and questions.  There is room and time for exploration and growth, both Biblically and relationally.  

As the groups grow in size, the conversation becomes more structured, more one-sided, more teaching instead of discussion, until it reaches church level.  To efficiently fit a Gospel message into a tight window on a Sunday morning, the preacher must create a message that is at the same time appropriate for attention span, appealing to a diverse audience, and delivered with precision and clarity. 

Just like a cook in a large restaurant.  A processed Gospel.

I'm not down on church.  I've been attending church for 53 years, so I must think it is beneficial.  I just want to be aware of my spiritual health, and what my spirit needs to be completely nourished.  It boils down to this:  I should feed often, and as close to the Source as possible. 

(I had this blog in my mind for a while, going in a certain direction, and this morning everything changed.  My apologies if it isn't as clear as it could be.  Thanks for tolerating this mess.  Let's try this:  Close to the source personal feedings, both spiritual and physical, should be the norm.  The larger and more processed a feeding becomes, the more infrequent it should be.  Eating one large meal at a big restaurant will not nourish a body for a week.  Going to church and being religious once a week might minimally sustain a person, but greater spiritual health is easily possible.)

Stupid Little Things, Big Life Lessons

The little red light just stared at me.  It didn't blink.  It didn't pulse.  Just stared.  Grrrr.  My flashlight is useless to me while charging.  It just sits there while the on/off button glows red. 

As usual, its my fault.  Of course it is.  I used it for too long, ignoring the occasional red blink that says, "Hey stupid, I'm dyin' here.  Plug me in!"  When I ignore it for too long, the flashlight takes things to the next level.  If I try to use a brighter setting, it defaults to the dimmest setting to conserve power.  Its a pretty smart flashlight. 

I never thought I would spend $65.00 on a little flashlight.  Its a Fenix UC30, in case you were wondering.  It's tiny, has amazing battery life, and four brightness settings, the brightest of which could probably be seen on the moon.  Ok, 960 lumens, which is pretty amazing for its size.  Has a defensive strobe, if things get bad.  It also has an onboard USB charger and an 18650 battery, which, when drained most of the way, takes hours to recharge.  Thus the reason it sits and stares. 

I was annoyed that it wasn't fully charged, even though I didn't need it.  How typical is that, to be so impatient with something.  Our on-demand society encourages us to push harder, faster.  Use up every little ounce of energy, but you'd better bounce back quick, or else!  How many times did I feel used up, nothing left, then charged to maybe fifteen or twenty percent before flying out the door again, only to be used up quickly, then thrust my dying soul in someone's face and expect understanding and sympathy.  Ha.

Don't worry, I'm not there now.  This has been a good year.  But that red light staring at me is a reminder that if I'm not careful, I can allow myself to be used up by an impatient and unforgiving world.  Occasionally, I need to set myself aside, plug in to what's important, and give myself time to recharge. 

I start to work on this blog, and after hours of glowing red, the silly thing turns green.  Within minutes.  Why do I feel like an inanimate object is laughing at me?

Small Goals

After this weekend's blatherings, I thought a positive post would be good for today.

Last night at work, I repeated my Sunday evening's goal of forcing myself to climb three flights of stairs, then needlessly descend the three flights only to need to ascend them again, all the while chanting, "I love hard work.  I love sweat.  I love discipline."  Twice per shift.  Mental Toughening.  No excuses.

Yesterday was my first unicycle ride, and it was a good ride.  Confident.  Strong.  Today, I didn't want to.  I thought the excuse of  "No need to overwork the muscles and risk injury" worked pretty well.  For a little while, at least.  I finally kicked myself in the mental arse and got dressed to ride.

Again, it was cool, and rainy, although not actively raining.  The ride felt a good bit less confident, less strong.  I could definitely feel my quads straining.  I chanted my mantra, "Sit in seat, chin up, wiggle fingers, breathe."  It always helps.  I really had to focus on technique and relaxing to help my quads function adequately.  Some days, I'll ride with a certain distance in mind.  Today's goal was to not fall.

It seems odd to most people.  Don't fall.  Such a simple goal.  Of course, if you are riding you aren't falling, and if you're falling, you aren't riding.  So if the goal is to ride, not falling is fairly fundamental.  You fall a lot learning to ride a unicycle, then you get better, and the falls become less frequent.  When my quads start to give out, its the first sign of an impending upd (un-planned dismount).  And that's what today was.  Just don't fall.

Some days are like that.  Its great to have goals to look forward to.  Vacation in six months.  Pay off the car in three.  Drop twenty pounds by the end of the summer.  Getting through the next two hours somehow seems insignificant compared to something months away, and yet its the decisions made in the next two hours that bring me closer to success or failure.

I didn't fall.  I made the half-mile, took my standard couple minute break, then made it back.  Success.  I made the distance, but my goal was not falling.  I met my goal.  I won't always make my goal.  I'll fail, I'll beat myself up, and you'll probably hear about it.  Then I'll make myself climb stairs, or do some other needless activity to punish myself, and be on my way again.

But for the second day in a row, Today is a good day.

Self-Loathing, and the Will to Change, Part 2

I rode my unicycle in the rain.  And it was great.

Its nice to have someone to talk to.  To bounce ideas off of.  This morning it was my tenant.  He was in the kitchen when I got up.  I told him of my plans to unicycle.  He notified me of the rain outside, although it seemed to be letting up.  We discussed numerous topics, as we occasionally do.  One of my points was how, when I was younger, I would ride my bicycle in any weather.  Weather never really had any bearing on my plans.  If I wanted to be somewhere, my bike was in motion.  Seriously, there wasn't a weather event that stopped me.  The obvious questions, then, is when and why did that change?

As the owner and sole proprietor of a window and gutter cleaning business, I worked outside in all weather.  Summer sun so blazing hot that the asphalt roof shingles would melt under my feet.  Winter blizzards found me hauling a 32-foot stepladder through 5 foot snow drifts so I could walk on 2.5 story roofs and shovel snow off.  Outside.  All the time.  Any weather.

Then, in 1997, I injured my back.  That seems to be a defining moment of my existence.  After that, my careers changed.  Everything became a challenge, and I was no longer my past physical beast.  Indoor, physically un-demanding jobs became the norm.  My mental tolerance for anything uncomfortable fell drastically.  My norm became whatever was easy, whatever didn't hurt.  I lost a big portion of what had made me feel like a man.

In 2011, my back was healed.  I don't know how, and I certainly don't understand why, but the pain mostly left.  Its been a struggle since then to regain what I feel I have lost.  My emotional cycles are more apparent.  The inner struggles seem to get the better of me, and it makes life uncomfortable for me and those around me who catch me in a mood.  I have learned to walk away from people when I'm moody, although that's not always possible.  Then, you just have to tolerate me.

There have been events as of late that have challenged me, mostly emotionally.  Mentally, I can justify almost anything.  Dealing with the circumstances of the events can be much more difficult.  Letting people down is not something I take lightly, and not something that I ever forget or let go.  Its in these moments that I understand what grace is, and trust me, when I need it, I appreciate when it is given.  Undeserved favor is truly a gift.

So while talking with my tenant, I decided the rain wasn't going to stop me.  It was cool outside, sweatshirt cool.  It wasn't raining at first, just misting.  This would be my first unicycle ride in a year.  Last year, I only rode once, and it was miserable.  I pumped up the tire, got my gear together, including my new helmet, and walked out into the wet coolness.  It felt great.  As I began to ride, I felt good.  A few houses down, and I felt strong.  Like I hadn't lost a beat.  I had anticipated the burning thighs, as is typical of a first ride.  Nope.  Made it to the end of the street, and felt like I could ride for miles.

I made it up the first little hill, which rather shocked me.  It always gave me trouble.  But I felt amazing.  Not wanting to hurt myself, I purposely stopped at the half-mile mark, a flashing light at Kent and Fernbank.  The best first ride ever, felt strong, and no UPDs.  That's Un-Planned Dismount, or "fall" in uni-speak.  I paced back and forth for a few minutes, mostly wondering if I would make it back without falling.  My body was ready.  I jumped back on, and rode home like I did this in my sleep.  Wow.  Didn't think that was possible.

I climbed the three front stairs without groaning or limping.  Quads didn't even feel tired.  My wife asked me how I felt, and I answered with a couple of double fist pumps in the air.  I would have done the Rocky dance, but there were ceiling fans to consider.

Where this goes from here is up to me.  To all of you who struggle daily to function like a normal person, I feel your pain.  For me, its a force of will to make anything happen.  Today has been a good day.

Self-Loathing, and the Will to Change

For the past two months, I have been working a new job on second shift.  I've worked second and third shift before, but that was in my twenties.  In my fifties, its a bit more challenging.  The body doesn't respond as well as it used to.  Couple the change in sleeping patterns with a huge reduction in exercise, and my body is confused.

I worked my last job for over thirteen years.  A good portion of it was climbing ladders.  Mostly 12 foot stepladders, throw in the six footer, and an occasional 28 foot extension, and you have a good picture.  To keep up with all that activity, meals were frequent and bountiful. 

That's all changed.  I move around a lot, but nothing like I used to.  Mostly short walks.  Food has become scarce.  A small breakfast, maybe lunch, and a regular dinner.  This is not me.  This has never been me. 

I have a gym membership, but have only gone once in the past two months.  I sleep a lot, more than I should.  I just don't do enough.  Its a simple matter of letting circumstances dictate my actions.  Its too hot out?  Stay inside.  Wanna ride the unicycle?  I need a new helmet.  There's always been that part of me that just... won't... do.  I have never understood this fight that goes on inside me.  The sad part is, once I do "do", I feel great, and wonder why I haven't been doing all along. 

This morning, I was the weak link.  After two months of inaction and concession, I failed at something very important to me, which affected other people, and thus the self-loathing.  I've been here before.  This is my cycle. 

There are three flights of stairs I have to climb, twice a shift.  When things aren't good, I find myself breathing hard at the top landing.  I recognize the problem, the need to change, the course for change.  Then I don't change.  I changed this evening. 

On my second rounds, I climbed the stairs, and found myself breathing hard.  I got mad.  Angry.  I got to the top landing, descended the three flights of stairs, and made myself climb them again.  On the way up, I repeated the mantra, "I love hard work.  I love sweat.  I love discipline."  Over and over, up the three flights.  I made it, still breathing heavy, and went about my work.  On the descent, I decided I needed to reward myself.  I repeated the mantra, "I love hard work.  I love sweat.  I love discipline."  The whole thing might sound a little odd to you, but it works for me.

It is my full intention to ride my unicycle tomorrow.  I guess I need an accountability partner, and tag, you're it.  My mantra for unicycle riding is, "Sit in seat.  Chin up.  Wiggle fingers.  Breathe."  Yes, I have to remind myself to breathe.  Actually, they're all important reminders.  But I have to be riding to make it work. 

This is my struggle.  Its also my apology.  Tonight, I will rest.  Tomorrow is a new day.

Death - The 2nd Greatest Blessing

The Greatest blessing is, of course, Jesus Christ, who brings us life.

Two trees are recorded in the Garden of Eden:  the tree of knowledge of good and evil, and the tree of life.  The tree of knowledge is identified in Genesis 2:17, and the tree of life is identified in Genesis 3:22.  In Genesis 2:16-17, God tells Adam that he can eat from any tree except the knowledge tree.  This means that Adam and Eve have free access to the tree of life.  Thus, no end of physical life.  I would propose that since an act of sin would bring spiritual separation from God (spiritual death), this tree of life, being a physical tree and fruit, would impart life to the physical aspect of man. 

The act of sin is committed in Genesis 3:6.  Disobedience to God brought spiritual separation.  Since man lives in a physical world, he displays that separation by hiding, due to his nakedness, in Genesis 3:7-8.  They also cover their nakedness with fig leaves, a symbol of man trying to cover up sin.  Plants are inadequate for atonement, since, according to Leviticus 17:11, “For the life of the flesh is in the blood: and I have given it to you upon the altar to make an atonement for your souls: for it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul.”  God himself performs the first blood sacrifice for them in Genesis 4:2, “…did the Lord God make coats of skins, and clothed them.”  But ultimately, Adam and Eve, and all of mankind, would have to suffer death to their physical bodies according to Genesis 3:19.

In Genesis 3:22, now that man is sinful, God does not want man eating from the tree of life, because that would result in man existing in a sinful state, physically, for eternity.  This proves the contention that in Genesis 2:17, God was speaking of a spiritual death.  Without the ability to die physically, God has no means of redeeming man.  I believe this is the issue with Satan and his demons.  Since they are spiritual beings, and they have sinned, there is no method of redemption.  We as physical beings are capable of losing the life in us through the shedding of our own blood, which satisfies God’s punishment to Adam in 3:19, but does nothing to atone for the spiritual separation from God.  Only Jesus’ death and resurrection can redeem us spiritually into God’s presence.  Jesus’ death was not our means of escape from physical death, we must suffer that ourselves.  Hebrews 9:27, “and as it is appointed unto man once to die, and after this, the judgment.”  We fulfill the first in our own death, and Christ takes our place in the second. 

So according to Genesis 3:22, if we do not die physically, we are damned to an eternity of separation from God.  Thus, physical death is a blessing from God.   Not the physical means, of course.  That may prove quite unpleasant.  And death is good only if death comes in God’s time, and by his plan.  To force our own death would demonstrate a lack of faith in God.  God is a spiritual being, and if we desire to return to him in spirit, we must first be free of our physical selves. 

But that is not enough.  Our physical selves being sinful is a result of our spiritual rebellion.  To be free from the physical alone still leaves us with a sinful spirit.  Returning to the spiritual with our sin intact leaves us in the state of eternal separation from God.  God is holy, and no sin can abide in His presence.  The only way to redeem our sinful spirit is to receive the forgiveness that Jesus gives.  The Word existed, and came to us in the physical form of Jesus (John 1:1-14).  Since he lived a sinless life, the only human to do so, his physical death was a sacrifice worthy to redeem all of mankind, see Leviticus 17:11 again.  The perfect sacrificial blood of Christ, giving his life, is a gift that can cleanse our spirits and return us to a spiritual relationship with the Father.  For without Christ, Revelation 20:15 says, “And whosoever was not found written in the book of life was cast into the lake of fire.” 

Another aspect to all this is when we submit ourselves to the blessing of Jesus' sacrifice, we have access to the Father in that perfect relationship now, even though we still live and suffer in the physical sinful state.  Its quite the conundrum, having to live in a sinful state and continually seeing ourselves as sinful, (and having others judge us as sinful, because we still are), yet having the spiritual access to Almighty God through the Holy Spirit.

All that to say, What a blessing it will be to die!  My spiritual death has been accomplished and spiritual life has been redeemed by Christ Jesus.  All I wait for now is to live out this life, hopefully in a manner worthy of the sacrifice Jesus gave.   Philippians 3:21, “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” 

 - The following was written by yours truly on August 25, 2005, and has been sitting in my hard drive ever since.  Slightly edited for grammar and clarity.  Dedicated to my spiritual brother Justo, who will soon pass into glory.

The Final Goodbye

I've been spending time cleaning out my computer files.  Came across this little gem.  I wrote it as my official last company email to my coworkers, back in 2003.  

The Final Goodbye

The summer sun waits patiently 

For spring to run its course

The storms of spring unleash their wrath

As warm and cold divorce

The April showers wait ‘til May

May flowers wait ‘til June

The fields march and meadows dance

To nature’s silent tune

When winter snows, and blows, and it

Appears that spring is losing

You can be sure that spring will pick

A time of it’s own choosing

A flower reared in early March

Will not the summer see

But should it wait for spring to come

A flower it will be

The timing of our lives can much

Resemble that of seasons

The changes come and go and wait

With subtle rhymes and reasons

The change I choose to make today

Is made reluctantly

So many friends across the years

Are now like family

The time together we have spent

Some precious memories bring

And glancing back at all we’ve done

I wouldn’t change a thing

(Well, ok, maybe one or two small itty bitty things.)(What!?!)

But seasons change, and so must we

My season here is through

And so it is with heavy heart

I bid you all adieu.

Many Thanks,  Alan

Relentless Father Time

I felt old today.

Last summer, I auditioned for, and scored, a part as an extra in the upcoming Stephen King mini-series "Castle Rock" on Hulu.  After its out, and if I make it in the final cut, I'll update with details.  So now I receive constant emails from the casting company about current projects.  This morning's email was for parts in a TV pilot, with filming tomorrow.  I have extra time, so I applied.  I needed a current picture, so my wife went outside with me and took a few.

Then I looked at the pictures.  Man.  Father Time is doing a number on me.  I've noticed this on other people.  You can see where they change.  One picture, they look like you know them.  The next picture, they look different.  Older.  That's how I felt when looking at the pictures.  If I were casting parts for a TV show, I would cast me as a college professor.  One who's been there a while.  The word "distinguished" came to mind.  Ouch. 

I don't want to be distinguished.  I don't want to be old.  I don't want gray hair.  I don't want wrinkles.  I don't want aches and pains.  I could really do without any of it. 

I'm not special.  Father Time has no contention with me personally.  He's just doing his thing.  I still hate him for it. 

I am special.  I have a Father in Heaven who loves me in a very personal way.  In fact, he created time, and that's probably the only justification I have in tolerating all this.  God's not going to stop time for me, or for you, either.  We all have to endure.  I could spin it where if I'm enduring old age, then I've made it to old age, blah blah blah.  Take that as you will.

No, I don't think I'm elderly yet.  There's plenty I can still do.  Lots to accomplish.  The new job has pressed a huge reset button for me, on many planes.  Physically, I'm getting a lot more sleep.  I can tell because my dreams are much more deep, more intense, more colorful.  Mentally, I'm invigorated in the process of learning the details of running a power plant, not just the weekend mentality of keeping it running until the full-timers come in on Monday.  Emotionally...  I de-stressed.  Amazingly, it only took about two hours of quiet with soft music in the background, and the stress was gone.  I have crossed a huge bridge in life, and now I stand on the other side, overwhelmed with excitement about the possibilities that lie ahead.

But I still look old.  Oh, I'll fight it.  Its gonna be a good summer.  Lots of exercise, time in the gym, time on the unicycle.  Lots of sunshine, fresh air, and good company.  We are joining a CSA this year, so lots of fresh, organic veggies.  My diet has changed drastically.  This revelation will make me smarter.  Work harder.  More aware.   I'll do what I can to stem the tide...  but...

The evidence is before me.  Three years into my fifth decade, and I can see the change.  Its there.  When I look in the mirror, I see the me I'm used to seeing.  When I see these pictures, well, its different. 

Sure, go ahead, say all the platitudes.  "Make the most of every day."  "Make sure to tell those you love that you love them."  "Cherish every day you wake up with breath in your lungs."  ""There are plenty of people in the world who would love to have your problems."  "At least you still have all your hair."  To quote a famous movie line, "Today is not that day."   Today, I'm just mad. 

So if you want inspirational blatherings, read my other blog posts.  I'll deal with it.  I'll be fine tomorrow.  I might be fine after eating a delicious dinner.  I'll walk it off.  I'll be fine, really.  I'm just relaying what's behind the mask.  I'm just relaying how you also feel, behind the mask.

Engaging Adversity

     "I drove up and down two aisles to find the closest empty parking spot to the entrance.  I shut off my car, grabbed my gym bag, and walked into Planet Fitness."

Yup, I just did that.  After all the blogging about moving and being in motion, I just did that.  You'd think I'd've learned by now.  Especially after my last blog.  Its ok, though.  At least I recognized my folly as I was getting out of the car, and had a good laugh at my own expense.  And yes, it was warm and sunny.  No excuses.

I left my job of over 13 years on Friday.  A lot of heartfelt goodbyes, hearty handshakes, a few last-chance good-natured insults, and the day was done.  My boss dropped me off at home.  I was standing in my driveway.  No work van parked next to me.  A little odd, but the change wasn't hitting me yet.

Understand, I had been working a part-time job for ten years.  Every other weekend.  Lately, it had been every weekend, covering for the open position which I would eventually fill.  Working the weekend was normal for me.  Then last night hit.

I relieved the morning shift gentleman as usual, as I had been doing for ten years.  Then he said, "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."  That's when it started to feel real.  See, the next day (which is actually today) is Monday.  I will not be driving to my old job.  Working evening shift, I will not even be getting up at any particular time.  Evening shift affords me quiet, restful mornings, among a myriad of other changes to be made.

So that's what I did today.  I slept until I woke.  When I rolled out of bed, I got dressed and went to the gym, something I haven't done in a long time.  Came home, made breakfast, and now I sit and am having a good think.

You may think I'm lucky to find a new job that gives me greater benefits than my last job.  Something worth leaving a stable, secure job would have to be a good bit of an improvement, and this new job has that promise.  But I will argue to my dying day that I am not lucky.  This isn't something I fell into.  I went to school for this opportunity.  I worked a second job for ten years for this opportunity.  I worked a double shift every other Friday for ten years for this opportunity.  I worked seven days a week for the past seven months for this opportunity.

I typically don't blow my own horn, and I'm really trying to not do that now.  But there's a consciousness out there that says "You have to make me happy."  "You can't negatively affect my life."  "It is your responsibility to keep me safe."  While one can argue that an advanced culture can provide some of the aforementioned, reality says it is my responsibility to find happiness.  Reality says life comes in waves, and some of those waves will bring negative change.  Reality says the world isn't safe, and its my responsibility to do all that I can for myself and for those I love to create the safest world I can imagine.

Options.  That is the best way I can describe how I feel today.  I have worked hard, divested my interests and knowledge down dissimilar paths, and those divestments have provided me with options.  I have exercised an option, and am anxious to see how all this plays out.

I have sought out adversity in a stressful work schedule.  I have sought out adversity in a lack of free time, free movement, free behavior.  I have sought out adversity in pushing my body past comfort.  I have sought out adversity in relationships, or better said, a lack of relationships, to advance my goals.  I have given up a social life, hobbies, and fun. 

I have chosen this path to get to this point.  Today starts a new day for me.  A new life.  A new schedule.  A new budget.  Everything I have worked for and sacrificed for all those years stares me in the face and says, "What will you do with me now?"  The answer, the honest answer, is...  I have no intentions of straying from adversity.  It may look different, but adversity has kept me going.  Motivated.  Alive.  I can handle comfort for a time, but not as a lifestyle.  My choice.  My life.

Work hard.  Rest hard.  Enjoy life hard.  Delve into passions hard.  Whatever "it" is, go after it hard.  Engaging adversity is where you'll find the best you.