Friday, May 4, 2007

Plagiarizing Myself. Twice.

This post was stolen from an email to a friend, which was in turn stolen from my journal entry this morning. Edited and elaborated, of course, because I've been thinking about it all day.

This morning's coffee and journal thought was this: How do we live in the present and look toward the future at the same time? I've never been any good at doing that. I feel like I've spent much of my life working on things that will happen later, and not "embracing now." And I'm doing it again with getting the house ready for this planned move, and thinking about being somewhere else, soon if I'm lucky. I am focused on a goal, and it has affected everything I do - I have lost the urge to shop for everything, not just yarn, because Stuff costs money to move, whether it's yarn or books or new sheets or a new Calphalon pan on sale, and I'm tired of feeling burdened by supporting storage for this Stuff. This house is not large - 1600 square feet - but the next place may be half this size. No more Stuff will enter this house, and more Stuff needs to leave it.

But I'm starting to understand the point of being in the moment. Apparently my yoga classes weren't totally wasted, I did retain something besides a fondness for downward dog (my lower back has never been so happy). I had a small epiphany the other day, that every little thing I do is a happy thing now, because I could very well be sitting here in a wheelchair with no memory, with no motor skills - you name it, it can happen with a brain hemorrhage. And I have no impairments at all, and this thought has given me a new perspective on mundane things like cleaning the garage or mopping the floors. One, it makes me genuinely happy to put order into my environment and make it clean and attractive, and two, I can DO it, and there was a good chance that I would not be here today, or here but not able to do it. And it is something I can "enjoy" - okay, cleaning the hot garage isn't "enjoyable" but I can take satisfaction in doing it, in the moment, and also in that it moves me closer to my goal.

That is also what makes going to the gym a real pleasure and not a chore - I can do this good thing for myself. I am not sitting here waiting for visits from a nurse and a physical therapist. I am very lucky and I know it. I have treated my body with benign neglect for many years, and started and stopped fitness programs and diets approximately every 20 minutes, and now I have a new attitude about treasuring my health, and doing good things for myself feels good. And I'll say it even though it's not very PC - it is not enough for me to be healthy, though that certainly is primary. I have to be skinny to be happy with myself. I am happier when I'm thin, and I have been thin and I've been heavier and I know that life is easier as a size 8. I'm 30 pounds over my ideal weight and a size 12 right now, and I don't like it, in fact, I hate it.

This 30 pounds isn't much in the grand scheme of things, which is why I have let it go so long. Denial is so much easier than action. But it's significant that Dr. Z doesn't want to put me on medication for my blood pressure or cholesterol or whatever until I take off the weight, to see if that fixes it. I know life is better when I'm skinny, and not just for my blood pressure, but now my body is demanding that I pay attention and get serious. So I'm really glad that the gym is a lovely "being in the moment" thing for me now, because it, too, is moving me toward a goal. I missed a few days this week, I wrote myself a note excusing myself from gym because it was that time of the month, but today I did 3.6 miles on yon treadmill, at a faster pace and steeper incline. Tomorrow there will be weights, too. Tonight I will do a lot of stretching to Keith Olbermann. I am moving a whole lot more than I was before the SAH, eating better, sleeping better, taking my vitamin and 81 mg. aspirin every morning. And every day I think how lucky I am to be here doing these things.

I am truly thankful for my brain hemorrhage. Obviously my body had to do something dramatic to get my attention.

This is barely a knitting blog, but I did use my "weekend pass" from my yarn fast today. I went to my LYS, where they have a really good selection of Noro, and instead of matching the skeins I have now with coordinating colors (because I couldn't find any) I fell in love with a colorway that is blues and greens and purples. Those are MY colors - whenever I wear them people comment - and the bag had exactly 9 skeins in it, and I wanted the 8 the pattern called for plus a spare, so obviously it was sitting there waiting for me. It will make a fabulous Argosy Wrap, and I don't have any other knitted things in those colors in my wardrobe, but I do wear those colors all the time. And that was my weekend pass - I thought about other things, but I know I won't get them done, because I am focused on Other Things these days. Good things.

I know I keep promising pictures. I'm still promising. Dogs and yarn and flowers, I swear.


Ginnie said...

As someone who reads you regularly, and worried when you were indisposed, this is what I have noticed since your brain popped. Your posts are calmer. And if things show up in your writing on a blog, clearly they were worse in person. That job is killing you, and I understand you need to go back till you sell the house and can get moved, but it has been a visible calming over the last couple of months. And, it worries me knowing you have to go back there.
The internet creates a sort of intimacy between people who don't know each other, but they do come to care, just like we both think Laurie is the bomb. I don't know you, but I 'know' you from your blog, and I hope you can change things and be happy and not so stressed.
This was a completely disjointed post, but you get my drift.
I send you cosmic good thoughts for a quick house sale and new job.

Catherine said...

I responded earlier but I think Blogger ate it. I have been thinking about why I am calmer, and it's more than just the job. I think it has to do with knowing my kids really are capable adults. Since their father died I think I've been carrying this subconscious load of Only Parent, and even though they are in their 20s it's one of those things parents never get past completely. But then I almost died and they stepped up and handled it like adults, and took care of me and talked to the surgeon and the four other doctors involved, and were calm and capable and took care of me, and I now really understand that they are really Adults, and can cope with crazy scary shit that falls out of the blue. I knew they were capable adults before, but this was a real serious test. So one reason I'm calmer now is that a lot of the responsibility I was carrying has been lifted. I really am just responsible for me, because they really are adults and don't need me as an active duty parent. I've retired - I'll sit on the sidelines and comment, but Parenting Is No Longer My JOB, and I have finally really truly processed this on a subconscious level, so I'm calmer, because that's one thing off my plate.