I’m of a mindset that things must grow organically to be genuine. If forced, failure. My goals… sometimes they feel forced. My mind simply isn’t always upon them. But I promise it’s not for a lack of genuine concern, is it?
Sometimes I don’t know.
I’m rational. I explain my life with rational reasons. It’s how I think. How I live. When I said I want to take better care of myself, it’s for logical reasons: Yes, I know I feel better when I’m fit, when I’m hydrated, when I’m properly stress-free, but the motions don’t carry into my mind when I’m none of those things. The moment I’m no longer fit, the moment I’m huffing and puffing just to climb up the stairs to my class, sweat beading on my brow and dripping dripping dripping onto the threads of my t-shirt, well, in that moment I’m not remembering how brimming with energy and enthusiasm I am when I’ve been good and worked out and built up muscles that I’m actually proud of. Instead I’m thinking how I used to be able to climb these steps with ease. And that wistful reminiscence isn’t inspiring. It just makes me feel old. How I used to…used to… I feel used. By my own self. Pitiful.
This last week, these last two weeks, I haven’t been all that great at keeping to any of my goals, most especially my taking better care of myself. The school year is (almost) over and the summer is (quite nearly) upon us, so it’s time to kick things into full drive. Time to set aside excuses and work to better myself. To lose those five, ten pounds I don’t want to carry around. To climb those steps again.
A good friend of mine, to whom I owe my life on multiple accounts and many levels of existence, said a while ago that if you want to do something weekly, do it every day. If you want to do it daily, do it every hour. I’m not sure I’m motivated enough of my own accord to be so diligent, but I’m going to try my best and keep her advice in mind as I pump up the stakes this month. I’m adding another water bottle to my weekly consumption rate: Now I’m aiming for four a week. As the summer takes full grip of the earth, I’ll need it especially. I’m going to exercise three times a week–at minimum. Just for fifteen minutes, but more if I can. Sometimes going overboard keeps you on the deck. Another friend told me he always aims for a bullseye, because even if he misses, he knows he’ll at least be pretty damn close. That’s how I’m going to hit this. That’s how I’ll do it.
For journaling, I think keeping it to three times a week is good for now. Something about making it a point to write is a challenge for me. I’m not sure why, since I find it so therapeutic, but I guess sometimes, when I’m full of stress, it’s easier to ignore what’s going on and to plow forward than to run straight into the midst of my feelings and work through them. Pretty asinine, I know. I’ll make progress. Now that the semester’s over and I can work to catch up on the past two months that I’ve fallen behind in, I know I’ll feel better. Unresolved issues? Confusing emotions? Conflicts of interest and investments and inspiration? They’ll all be set to rest with a few words written in ink, my blood upon paper, upon the pages of my life. Yeah.
My blogging goals. I’ll keep at them. This month will hopefully see the return of my Pirkei Avot series. I miss my Jewish studies. I shall welcome it happily, but first a few more things must be done to end my time at Guilford Tech. I’ve got a speech to prepare and things to vote for. These must come first.
Driving. I wanted to. And I did. Once. The other weeks I was battling with sickness and homework and headaches. I want to learn to drive. I just wish it wasn’t so hard. I want to be out on the road already. I want to go pick up my man for a date instead of making him come here all the time. I want to. But wanting isn’t enough–I also need experience. And that takes time. And time is what I haven’t had this month.
But I’m not giving up. Yes, sometimes it feels like I’m forcing things to change in my life, like I’m trying so hard to mold myself into the perfect person I want to be that I’m losing sight of the person I am, the person that doesn’t always find all of these things easy. I need to figure out a bridge between the me I see and the me I want to be. Once I connect the dots, the picture will be clear. It’s drawing lines that’s difficult.
I will succeed. I will achieve. The year is a third over, but not yet halfway done. I’ve made tremendous progress on my goals already. I’m not at the end yet, but the year isn’t over, either. In fact, you could argue, with the changing seasons, with graduation, and with acceptance to my new school, you could argue it’s still just beginning.