Yes, that is what New Years is all about for many. Welcoming in a New Year and having a big party. Then paying the piper in muscle grinding resolution. Well, not for me. But that does not mean I did not celebrate. I did. I celebrated LIFE. Just glad to continue the one I have for another year. Plan all the things I want to enjoy.
But as always, there is much more to this celebratory story. I don’t make resolutions like many about losing weight, finding a path to God, being a better me, but rather, just tossing my goals or wishes out into the ether daily and hoping a few stick. The thing is, I try to experience challenge, growth and be fulfilled in all that I do. I hunt for things to surprise me with wonder and awe. I don’t need that arbitrary and short-lived resolution with unattainable expectation. I don’t need a self-help word or chant to point my way.
What I celebrate is the everyday, finding the extraordinary in daily life, the beauty in the ordinary. Hey, if more people did, this world would be a better place. Embrace change, have a sense of gratitude, be kind to all beings, live frugally and sensibly. A way of life, not a promise to uphold.
Funny thing about getting sick, people around you get all kinds of preachy. They tell you how to live healthier, be active and eat better, as if they are morally and intellectually superior.
They assume you have things you did not fully consider or understand. While that may be true in some respect, being preachy just reinforces their beliefs by gaining converts to their cause. It reminds me of resolutions. Not many listen or follow those either, both are annoying. We all follow the path of our own making. But when one gets sick, the preachy people don’t consider HOW one got sick. They judge.
For instance, some of my health issues are a result of the highly active life I led, always conscious to be outdoors and stay active. It was some of the sport activities I did that caused some of the problems I have now. Extreme sport can be hard on growing bodies. Now, I walk about 10 miles a day and do yoga. Running and aerobics are out for now, doctor’s orders for three more months.
Other causes were possibly because my mom drank (socially) and smoked her whole life but most selfishly through pregnancy. We know now how that affects children. I was premature, sickly and very tiny. I spent some time in an incubator after I was born.
Some problems are the result of genetics, having the same cardiac illness as my mother which finally ended her life. It is funny how all this compounds and catches up. It is not always eating wrong and sitting on one’s butt all day like the well-meaning folks assume.
Rather than dwell on what is or was out of my control, I tend to look to what lies ahead under my control, like eating healthy in small portions and staying active like I have been doing for many years.
Yet, the cardiologist told me to lose weight!!! In a rather preachy way too.
She herself had lost quite a bit of weight, so I sensed from where this was coming. Yet, she was nowhere near the weight she told me to achieve. In fact, she looked to weigh about 20 pounds more than me and we are the same age and height. For my height, her recommendation is a hair above underweight according to the charts. She says that would be less stress on my heart. I pray she is right.
My general practitioner thinks this is too low and my weight is perfect for my age and height. BMI is perfect too. So what do I do? I probably will reach her suggested weight by default because I eat a lot of fish, chicken breast, vegetables, fruit and salad. I just did not like her approach of telling me.
I guess if I reach it, I will celebrate. Only 10 pounds to go and I will weigh what I did at 18. I just happen to like what I weigh now. But I will wait and see…since I have an idea what that extra 10 pounds is like to carry around. I walk with two, five pound weights. It is a bit cumbersome after a few miles.
My favorite little bird that makes me happy every time I see one. Pudgy little fellow, but in the animal world a little added pudge goes a long way.