Here we are at the end of a Friday. My body is crying out for rest. The week has been particularly tough for me—not because of the challenges “life” has thrown my way, but largely because of the decisions I made, which left me unable to perform at my best when facing the usual challenges and small daily difficulties.
If you think about it, what would “our life” be worth if we didn’t have a few small setbacks? Would we be able to taste the spice of life if everything went smoothly? Would happiness be on our side and live in our spirits if life were bland, tasteless, and predictable? Where we’d wake up every day knowing that regardless of our choices, or our inner attitude—and even toward others—life would go our way?
I think that such a childish notion could only be enjoyed for a few days. Have you ever imagined yourselves in a paradise, where—just like at a luxury resort with an “all-inclusive” package—all you’d have to do is raise your hand in the air for your every whim and desire to be fulfilled?
How long would it take before we felt truly satisfied? Life, thus emptied of meaning or friction, would become a theater, where not even our minds could feel connected to the rest.
Well, this week, just as I said at the start, I felt a lot of friction. And it all starts with the simple fact that I couldn’t face the difficulty of time not being on my side. Time management is something that greatly influences the choices I consequently make. And this time was no exception. Finding myself short on time, and because of an appointment I had late Monday afternoon, I found myself changing both the amount and the time of the meal I ate before that appointment. The result wasn’t great. My body ends up adapting to a routine. When something breaks that routine, my body—weak as it is—clings to it as if it were a drug.
That little slip-up meant that when I got home after my appointment, I ended up eating a second meal. Not because I was hungry. But it was definitely something emotional. I certainly wasn’t hungry. Something was missing inside me. And my mind steered me toward seeking something that would fill that void. And of course, food, despite providing a brief and fleeting sense of well-being, eventually comes at a price. And if not exactly at that very moment, then in the hours that follow.
I went to bed. A night passed, and I confess that the rest wasn’t the same quality.
The following Tuesday... I woke up feeling unrested. A morning spent constantly chasing the long hand of the clock. A hectic day. I was never fully present. It always felt like I was playing catch-up. Always missing something. Always running on a treadmill that left me further and further behind. And my energy levels just wouldn’t recover. That Tuesday I had a meeting early in the evening. On the weeks when I have that meeting, I usually take a short nap in the afternoon so that I can get through the later meeting and feel capable of waking up at my usual time the next day without feeling completely exhausted.
The change in the time and size of the previous day’s meal, combined with the late meal, meant I couldn’t take a nap without eating first. Of course, the meal was more than just something that satisfied me at the time; it was something that kept me from falling asleep. I didn’t rest. I dragged myself almost literally around the house… Glancing at the clock in a rather unproductive way.
I ended up not going to the gym. When it was time to leave the house, I ended up being overcome by exhaustion. Not having taken my usual mid-afternoon nap, combined with changes in my meal times—which led to disproportionate insulin spikes that weren’t as regular or spaced out as they had been in previous weeks—meant I didn’t go to the meeting.
Another goal unmet, another thorn in my side. I went to bed early, but on a full stomach. Another meal just over half an hour before bed—even though it tasted good, it doesn’t lead to a restful night.
Wednesday. No commitments, except for work-related ones. I didn’t do well in that area either. A mental fog set in. And early, still in the morning. All the mistakes and changes were affecting my day. And another afternoon, with the mistakes from the previous days repeating themselves. Straying further and further off course.
Thursday, with nothing new. And little desire to do anything to change that.
Today, Friday, suddenly, halfway through my shift, I found myself having a moment of clarity. I had to “take the bull by the horns.” The obstacle was right in front of me. It wasn’t just in my head; it wasn’t something I’d imagined. It had materialized. Throughout the week, drifting aimlessly, without stopping to check the compass and readjust my course, had done nothing to produce a different result. But I had to stop... Look up. See the summit of my goals up there. Realize that I was drifting away, and that the ball was in my court.
I left work just a few minutes before my usual quitting time (after all, I’d arrived almost two hours before my scheduled start time...). I didn’t care if I might be accused of breaking the rule about leaving only at quitting time. None of that mattered to me. I wanted to get home quickly.
Unlike the day before, today, when I got home, I put my French press on the stove. A nice measure of ground coffee was waiting for me. While the water began to boil, I still had time to call my mother. It was good to hear her voice again today. Yesterday, I hadn’t done so. I had promised myself I would call her every day.
We never know when we’ll get to enjoy that freedom of being able to talk to someone, do we? We know that, inevitably, one day, one of us won’t be able to answer the phone anymore. That’s why I don’t want to waste the opportunity. They’re unique. Truly unique, and irreplaceable.
I went to put on my shorts and slung my gym bag over my shoulder.
Finally, after almost a week, I managed to get in a strength training session. It wasn’t fantastic, but I felt like I was defeating the “monster” that had taken root inside me. Something that was consuming me. That wouldn’t let me do the things I’d been doing until recently. And a surge of energy filled my spirit as I left the gym while daylight still lingered in the sky.
When I got home, I ate my meal. Slowly. Without overdoing it.
I’m back on track.
The effort will pay off. Tomorrow is a new day. A day to keep my head up.
Image by ralu_michael from Pixabay
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