Ok, so I changed my mind. Decided to start with swimming.
60 minutes worth.
Felt good!
Posted
CommentPost a comment
The thing about any long journey is, you've got to start somewhere to get anywhere.
Where's that anywhere? I'll tell you.
This is it. The last of my 365 entries of gratitude (more or less, some accounting errors notwithstanding.)
What have I learned after a year of mindfully paying attention to my gratitude? A lot of things.
- I've learned that more often than not, my wife Missy is at the heart of many of the things I'm grateful for.
- I've learned that when I let myself, I can easily get in my own way, and cause myself a lot of suffering.
- I've learned that just as easily, when I let myself, I can easily get out of my own way, and bring myself peace.
- I've learned that gratitude isn't built, achieved, celebrated, envied, or grown. It's just experienced.
- And based on that last point, I've learned that I'm just getting started with it. And always will be.
How does that work, exactly? How can you always be just getting started? I think, in part, it's because the work of mindful gratitude is a sort of self-supporting mechanism, it's self-referential. The work is done by me, to me, about me, for me. I'm the source material for the process, the reference guide for how to do it, and the end product, while also being the consumer of it.
There's a mathematical analogue for this sort of snake-eating-itself mindset. It's called self-similarity, and is often seen in fractals.
I find them hauntingly beautiful. They repeat their patterns, infinitely. What is at first a small, inconsequential part of the pattern becomes larger, getting significant for a time, until the next small part is focused upon.
Very familiar.
That's why today, I don't get a victory lap. Because there's no end in sight.
I'm grateful for that. I was grateful for it 364 times previously. It looks like I'll be grateful for it for a countless number of days to come.
Back when my cousin A was a toddler (which was a long time ago, she's in medical school now), she and her sister were visiting my family for the summer. The house we were staying at had a pool, and next to it, a little water slide. The two girls were playing with another toddler, and the three would line up to use the slide. A, being the youngest, always seemed to wind up being last in line.
This really pissed her off.
She cried, stomped her feet, and made a big ruckus about it. I helped her out though. I suggested that when it was her turn, that instead of going right down the slide, she wait for the other two girls to line up behind her, and then she would be first.
She did just that, and felt so happy. Then they all started to do it, and all got to be first.
As a life coach I tell my clients about this sort of thing all the time. The fancy name for it is a paradigm shift. You mentally shift gears to see things in the way which is most useful to you. It's not a lie, it's the choice to see things in a different, yet also valid way.
I experience them myself all the time, and can often mindfully encourage them. Just this morning I got out of the house in time to make one of the few holiday schedule trains running today. On my way there, I got stuck behind a truck going very slowly.
At first, I was very agitated. But then I realized that I didn't have to be. I followed behind the truck until I could safely change lanes, and then drove to the station at the speed limit. I knew that if I missed the train, the traffic would be easy anyhow, because it had been yesterday. If I had to take the car, then this was just a few minute detour to the station.
As it turns out, I made it in time. But I was also calm, peaceful, and unhurried as I did so. Changing gears mentally helped me get where I needed to go, without undue suffering.
I'm grateful I know how to do this, and can practice it.
So yesterday I got myself out of the house in time to make the 7am train in to work.
Except there wasn't one.
Because of the holidays the rail system is on holiday schedule all this week.
No problem. I got back in the car, drove in. The traffic was fairly light, so it wasn't too bad.
Even though my day got thrown off kilter some, I went to the gym to swim before work anyhow.
It felt great. It didn't mess up my workday anywhere near as much as I thought it would.
Later that day I came home and finished working on an audio project I was expecting to take a very long time. I managed to get it finished much quicker than I had planned for.
There's this behavior tracking application for kinky people/ageplayers I've wanted to build for years. I got started trying to build it in earnest last night, only to bump into some sort of class path glitch with my IDE.
I banged at it for about an hour with no luck. Then I decided to call it quits for the day and start again tomorrow night. It's a decision I feel good about.
What all these things have in common is that any urgency they had was the urgency I gave them. Yes, to be sure I have commitments and obligations to myself, other people, and my job. But in the end, I'm only accountable to myself. As long as I know the value and consequence of my actions, I can do literally anything, and take as long as I need to do it.
That's a fairly liberating idea. It means It's never too late to get in shape, or learn a new skill, or do something kind for someone you care about. I'm grateful for the peace and power not having a set schedule brings me.