I was overweight and tired. I struggled to look at myself in the mirror and, aside from that, I had other panics and emotional struggles. I had workplace stress and personal heartaches. This includes the ideas of disheartened or tragic thoughts of a dead-end mentality.
There was no drive. There was no spirit. There was nothing more than more of the same, which was tired and subpar from mediocre.
My job was my job. My life was my life yet there was nothing internal to give me a sense or source of redeeming light. I needed something.
I needed a spark. I needed a sense of inspiration and a push in the right direction.
Perhaps this began with an awakening. Or, maybe this was a result after the trip to a doctor, who, with no filter, chose to explain exactly where I was (and where I was heading).
I had a list of resentments that was at least a mile long and starting with the resentments I had against myself for the trades I accepted or the displeasure I experienced because it was me who allowed myself to become, I took on a sense of shame.
I could hear my own breathing. Worse, I would be out of breath so easily, which is not to say that I was obese or to oversell my journey; however, my aim here is to narrate this as accurately as I can.
This is not to dismiss my work or the fact that I was effective or pleasant to others. I was not so obviously miserable nor so unsightly that I would walk by and people would speak under their breath and ask, “How the hell did he let himself get like that?”
There is nothing more humbling than the sight of an unwanted reflection in the mirror. There is also nothing more punishing than seeing yourself and your personal tragedies which have been left behind as a map that traces out your choices that resulted from your thinking.
This can be linked to a series of downgrading behaviors and like dominoes, one by one, I began to fall consecutively. This is how people let themselves go. And yes, this is what happened to me which, again, I am not putting myself down by any means. Instead, I am rebuilding myself to a higher standard.
That’s all . . .
Here is another place where I need to express one undeniable and redeeming truth.
Movement is the enemy of depression and depressive thinking.
Action is the enemy of despair.
So, therefore, I chose to make the enemy my friend and I chose to replace thought with action. So at last, i could breathe without falling out of breath.
It was morning, The sun was about to take the stage. The sunrise was early enough that I could leave my house at dawn and take my walk with enough time to shower, clean myself off, get dressed and make it to work on time.
I’m telling you this is a page out of my playbook but without any secrets between us; I swear to you, walking melts more than just weight.
There is something so freeing about an empty road in the morning. It seems as if the world is an empty place. Nothing and no one else is around to interrupt the scene. No cars. No people. No unneeded, unwanted or unnecessary conversations to have.
I love these walks.
I wired some music to my ears and chose songs that triggered my soul, enough to spark a rage and enough to make it so that each time I stepped on the pavement, it was as if I was stepping through the world; as if each step was made with the distinct determination to squash the ground beneath me; as if to march with a purpose and with rage and anger and as if to allow each foothold to push through the ground; as if to remove the toxins and the poisons, and with each step, I walked harder. I walked with dedication.
This was more than burning calories. This was more than exercise. This was my rebuttal. This was also more than me wanting to look good naked . . .
And more, this was my rebellion and with me as my own captain, this was my way of rebelling against my tragic thinking.
I have been told (and so have you I suppose) that nothing changes unless we change.
Nothing happens. Nothing alters for us. But only to us unless, of course, we take a step.
Unless we do something. Unless we overthrow the enemies in our head and unless we learn to take action and change the narrative that speaks to us unhelpfully; our chemistry and the circuitry of our thinking will only remain the same.
So, in my case:
I decided to walk.
I decided to take a step. I decided to move.
I decided to create a physiological change in my body.
I decided to let myself sweat and as a means to replenish myself, I decided to walk hard and sweat the poisons in my mind as well as my body. This personal purge of mine was the only way I could transfer the energy and get rid of the thinking that betrayed my best qualities.
I came to an understanding that if anything was going to change; then it would only change if it were me who changes the way I move and think.
I started small yet the changes I made were huge because the actions I chose were, in fact, life altering motions that sparked the inertia to change my world.
It is amazing to use all of your energy. It’s amazing to expel the so-called demons of the mind, body and soul.
It was redeeming to replace thought with action. With each step, I might not have been healed or cured but one thing was true; at least I was one step better than I was before.
I knew that each step made me better, not worse.
I liked that idea.
In order for me to change my thinking and the circuitry of my trained assumptions and biases, I had to create an alternative source.
I had to give my system a new form of behavior which would allow me to create new habits and redeeming qualities; else, I would find myself backsliding to old or default settings.
(AKA: More of the same)
I had to move and create change. I had to change my patterns which was more than my eating or the focus on my nutrition. I had to remove myself from places which degraded me or triggered old patterns of thinking that would essentially cause a loop of repetitive thinking that resulted in old and repetitive behaviors.
I had to excuse myself from the arguments in my head and rid myself of the internal self-talk and replace this with something that was inspiring and essentially magical enough to create a switch.
I love early morning walks.
I love watching the sunrise.
The music, of course, is always relative to the listener. But me, I have a vast selection which triggers and inspires moods that allows me to transfer the action into something more motivating and redemptive, as if to say whether it was something classic to my youth or even the rage of my youth, or if I chose to listen to some of the readings from some of my favorite poets or even if I was listening to something by Kerouac, like the book Tristessa, read by William Fitzsimmons, I chose to listen to something that fed my soul and pushed me to walk further, faster, and harder and, of course, with more determination.
Essentially, I report this to you as the spring cleaning of my soul; and more, this was my way of ridding the mental and emotional trash. With each and every step I took, I knew that whether I was going to improve quickly or if this was something that would take time; I allowed myself the regeneration of a new life.
I was allowing myself the redeeming quality of movement; but more, I was allowing myself the right and the freedom to protest against my own despair.
I’d step down hard and let the soles of my feet crash into the ground. I’d let the music of choice do its trick.
I’d let the scene take over. I’d allow my eyes to notice the colors of the new sun in the sky. I’d watch the heavens and look at the dawn or how the colors and the shades of orange and purple took hold of the clouds.
I allowed my eyes to notice the mountains around me and the sun as it evolved from the palm of the horizon. This is like an orange yolk in the hand of the sky with beams of light that spread out to the world below.
This is beautiful.
I rehearsed suggestions in my head which came to me a long time ago when someone told me, “Don’t quit before the miracle happens.”
I won’t do that.
Not this time.
I thought about the enemies at my gate and the internal hatred which degraded my thinking and urged me and pushed me to quit.
I protested against this. I protested against every degrading memory that existed in my head and with each footstep crashing down through the Earth; every step and every stride was my chance to physically speak out against the crimes and the sins against me.
I gave all that I had to get rid of all that I could.
But more, I gave my body the work it took to refresh my system; so that to expel my mental demons, I replaced their empty hollowness with a sense of accomplishment.
I removed the voids by filling the empty landfills with beneficial acts. By rewiring my thoughts through an alternative action, I gave myself the right to physically transform into a much lighter frame.
For me, these walks were freeing. So helpful and
redeeming as ever. At the end of my walk, the sun was ready for its place on the stage, the day was about to begin and me, I was ready for it.
I gave myself a new action to allow for a new narrative and to progress with my changes, I took a step each morning. I made a stride to push myself in a new direction because otherwise, all I would have is more of the same.
And to me –
more of the same just wasn’t enough . . .
So, here it is. it’s morning now and the sun has yet to show its face.
It is 4:15 in the morning. At the time of reporting this to you, I am currently sitting in front of my computer, nearly 60lbs down from a weight that was uncomfortable.
I am working to create a great new scene which is more than just a dream of mine.
This is more than drifting in an ocean across a blue sea.
No, this is much more.
I say this because this is not a dream.
This is my life.
This is your life too. No one is going to “get it” for us.
So now, it’s our turn to get it.
In my case –
I chose to take the steps. I chose to create the action.
I chose to do this because, once more, the last thing I ever want to see in the mirror is an unwanted reflection or to defy my best self with disgust.
I chose to make a move. The only question is –
What’s your “go to” actions?
Oh and, yeah . . .
when thinking about this or the soundtrack for your life, what music do you choose to get you going?
Just asking, in case I need something better than say a song called White Sun.
Know what I mean?
The Written Addiction 