Tuesday, April 07, 2009

The journey of a thousand miles...

...begins with 30 minutes of gimpy steps. Tomorrow is National Start! Walking Day, and - while I may be hobbling this first day (and possibly the next few) - I'll be out there. My mother, father, brother and sister all had heart problems before they died, and a day doesn't go by when I don't think of my nephew's dark humor at his mother's December funeral, asking who was planning on dying next year.

Y'all know, I have had some major physical setbacks in the past couple of years. (Lord knows, there's nothing like crushed vertebrae and bulging discs to make life more interesting.) And, I can assure you, the physical setbacks come with their own painful set of mental setbacks. It's depressing as hell - nothing you would wish upon yourself. On Hitler? Sure. On yourself? No. Never. But, there isn't any single way you can stop someone else from hitting you with their car (unless you never leave home.) However, you can help yourself move forward. This is a time of renewal for me.

A lot of stuff has happened since December: death, illness, separation, frustration. And now I'm trying to detoxify myself. I cut my hair, cleared all my old, forgotten possessions out of the building storage room, ended some relationships... and I try to remember to breathe deeply. Hell, I even listen to the sound of the ocean at work when things get me riled.

And tomorrow I walk.

I know I have more than a few friends who find themselves in transition right now, too. Very sincerely, I think the best advice I can offer to everyone is to take a moment (or two or three) to do some mental spring cleaning. Take stock of what you have, what you need, and what you need to shed from your life.

Don't just declutter your home. Declutter your mind. Let go of toxic ideas. End toxic relationships. Move on. Heck - go talk to a therapist. Let it all go and just live your own life!

That's advice I'm not only giving to myself, but I'm offering up to the people I've released from my life in recent months, too. I know you are still out here, reading the blog. You need to let me go, just as I have let you go. You will be healthier for it. Move on. Seek new people who understand your world view and can offer you the friendship you need.

Live your own life.

And please, let me go.

Let it all go.

Walk.

Breathe.

Surround yourself with supportive people.

Life is too short to be weighed down by people who don't want you to succeed. Life is too short in general.

Tomorrow I walk. I have new-ish sneakers and my last couple of Vicodin tablets set aside.

Here goes nuthin'...

7 comments:

Christopher said...

Wise counsel indeed. I've been trying and failing all 2009 to start a more serious fitness regimen... maybe I'll try to take some inspiration from you!

Life is too short. Thanks for the reminder.

CB

suze said...

excellent advice! I'll be joining you in spirit on your walk, as I go out for a walk in the freshly fallen snow (sob) this evening...

Sounds like you're making some positive steps in a direction that fits for you - way to go!!!

Heather Meadows said...

Sounds like you're making some great changes! Good luck with the walk!

What a great cause, too. I know I'm certainly lucky that heart conditions have come to the fore in recent years...

Madame Meow said...

Cheering you on from the sidelines, for everything!!! Woooooo!!!!

Robin said...

Wow, you've gone through a LOT since December. Only a smidgen did you write about on here. I'm impressed.

And, good for you. Every step of it. Step by step by step can bring progress.

Besides, it'll be warmer out tomorrow. Enjoy:)

Merujo said...

Thank you, guys! Today turned out to be a tougher day than I'd expected. My good mood got kicked in the teeth in the afternoon, and I'm not quite back yet.

But I'm going to keep moving forward. No turning back!!

Lunesse said...

Excellent post. I wish I was near you to walk with you, with Derek, we'd be just as ambling along as you!

I really like your advice on letting go and gracefully asking to be let go of. I need to do better at this, even though I know how good it feels to lighten one's load, be it physical, mental, or spiritual.