Sunday, September 9, 2018

Happy Chi



I probably feel better.  I won't commit yet, but I probably do.  And I've made some changes.  Remember, I said that when you are not happy, change things?  So yesterday I walked to a park where there is a large outdoor exercise area with pull up bars, parallel bars for doing dips--whatever.  It is an outside gym without weights.  It is about a mile and a half walk from my house.  Well, it is a mile and a half whether you walk or not.  But I walked, and all the way, I wasn't sure if I felt good enough to exercise.  I told myself I would be gentle and not make myself do anything that I didn't want to do.  That is the best thing to tell yourself.  Give yourself license.

When I got there, another fellow, athletic and ropey muscular, was doing the same sort of weird workout that I intended.  I started with stretching and calisthenics all the while feeling a bit self-conscious.  More than a bit.  I mean, I was doing jumping jacks for god's sake, but what the fuck, right?  It's a real thing.  Then I did some crunches and squats and pushups and pull ups and dips, and then I did them again.  After that, I ran half a mile.  I know it was half a mile because the sign said so.  It is a big loop around the park that brings you back where you started.  And then I did more push ups, etc.  And then I walked a longer way home.  I was beat.  No more gym, I thought, as I pondered my poor athletic condition.  Not for a long while.  I need a break from that.  I need a change.  I'll ride my bike.  I'll swim.  I'll become as ropey muscular as that other fellow.

It made me feel better to think so.

It rained all day, so I sat inside reading and going through some old picture files.  And of course, the inevitable nap.  But my stomach was still bad, so all I ate was some yogurt.  I told my mother I would cook for her and would be over around six-ish.

And then, the second change.  Before I went, I did Yoga with Adrienne.  I am starting all over with Yoga for Beginners.  I set up my computer on a stool and laid out my yoga mat and hit play.  Shit fuck.  Just sitting on the floor was torture.  Everything was, the gentle twists, the planking, the downward dog--all of it.  I know what I'm supposed to look like when I do those things.  I'm looking right at Adrienne.  But no matter what position we took, I looked like a question mark.  For half an hour, I cursed myself for getting this way.

Then it was over and nobody had seen me struggling to do the simplest things.  And my chi was all groovy.  I'm not kidding.  I just felt better.  Head and body.

I cooked a simple meal for my mother and me/I/myself (?); four chicken thighs, two yellow onions halved, three stalks of celery, three chopped carrots, kosher salt, rough ground pepper, and red pepper pressure cooked for fifteen minutes and served over egg noodles.  Avocado and tomato salad.  Done.  I put on a movie, "The Razor's Edge" with Bill Murray, and felt the dharma.

"That's what messed me up, ma.  Stuff like this.  I didn't want to be a capitalist tool.  I wanted to search for meaning."

She didn't understand the movie at all, and I had to keep explaining what was happening.

"I don't understand.  Where are they now?"

"India."

Etc.

The film doesn't hold up as well as I'd hoped.  The swelling music is terrible and serves to make drippy scenes drippier.  Still, the good old spiritual journey away from home and back, the hero's tale and all that.  I was always a sucker.

And I was all yoga'd up.

Today, I will repeat.  Gentleness is my mantra.  And since I think I can eat today (last night's meal seemed not to muck me up), I will begin making a list of meals that I want to eat.  Not just meals, but foods.  An avocado a day.  Red peppers.  Couscous with stew drizzled on top.  Teas and yoga wine.  No whiskeys, no white sugars.  Dates and figs and date and fig cakes for sweetness.  Tumeric face masks and much water.  Fish and rice and many kinds of broth soups.  It takes planning.

I am looking forward to the new me, thinner, younger, sprier, prettier.

I don't know.  But maybe I'll be a little happier for a while.

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