photo the author’s
I am NOT good at the boredom of keeping healthy. I blew my knees running. My joint replacement put paid to treadmilling. I hate my recumbent bike (and no, I don’t know why, except that it’s boring). So cardio is HARD.
But despite my whining about it, I actually quite enjoy much of technology (well, except when it doesn’t work, obviously!).
So a Fitbit seemed a way to get me back on track w/ walking and keeping a food log. (I’m trying to frame the whole logging food as a new journal, and/or a new kind of mindfulness… ).
The Fitbit came Saturday, and I’ve spent the past couple of days playing with it, trying to figure out how to best work it in to my everyday activities. My younger son says it’s all part of the new ‘Quantified Body’ movement. Wow! I’m on trend!
For me, it’s just a way to make work feel more like play, a strategy I’ve learned to employ when I don’t want to do something. So, I have a new toy! And I’ve logged my food for two days now! Which was always a huge pain when I tried it before.
Watching my beloved struggle just to get around on his knee scooter has made me painfully aware that we are aging. It’s a topic I successfully avoid considering most of the time. But here it is, sitting down at the table w/ me for meals. I probably should pay attention to what it has to say.
One of the best things about being a writer — especially a poet — is that I think metaphorically. This means (as my beloved will attest) that sometimes my analogies are… well, off the wall. At least to others. And sometimes I realise things new & fresh that other folks got years ago.
Like the recent clip on the spiralling solar system. I was mesmerised, to see the sun pulling that beautiful chain of planets in its wake, into the darkness of the galaxy. WOW! Until my husband said, well, yeah. That’s how it works. HELLO! Did I not just say I JUST GOT IT? Sigh…
The point to this is that I’m reframing aging. It’s hard for any of us to look in the mirror, and not see who we think we still are. It feels like… well, un petit morte, a small death. Not fun, in other words.
Instead? I’m thinking… autumn. Possibly my favourite season, as the sun drops on the horizon, flooding the sky w/ that honey light. And the trees, their leaves aging, put on this incredible art show. Scarlet, incandescent chartreuse, vivid saffron and even purple. That’s what I’m thinking. I’m heading in to autumn, and that’s somehow more okay.
With the help of gadgets to play with (technology!), and my own nature (metaphor lover & poet), and some creative positivity, I can make this new journey. And even get healthier as I go. That’s pretty cool beginner’s heart, I figure.