The Second Worst Part

      When you are trying to get yourself back on track the second worst part, after whatever situation made you realize there may be an issue, is that horrible terrible shame and disgust filled moment when you realize how obvious it was that you got off track. Not when the derailment was underway of course, but with the clarity and magnification of the rear view mirror.  A device which does not have in its matrix the ability see a damn thing ahead of time or even in progress. How much time and energy would that save us all? 

 Next come questions. How did you miss the road signs?  Didn’t you notice the letters spelling out WRONG WAY? How about those spiky things that you are never ever supposed to drive over or severe soul damage may result? 

Nope, it is now crystal clear we just drove right over those. How did I miss the sound of the tires popping?  How did I not notice the car driving as though it had no tires? Oh whats that you say?  My blood glucose got to 368?  I was shedding muscle like a steroid user kicking the needle? My grandmotherly slot machine habit evolving to more of  a meth-friendly cousin, 3AM at waffle house kind of “issue?” How about the underlying current of frustration and anger and disappointment. The melancholy mornings…. Noons… and nights.  The 15 extra pounds and my fit-bit giving up the ghost from boredom? Those warning signs were not good enough?  The ER for chest pains. Yeah not a clear indication there either. I don’t know what you are saying exactly.  Some things to work on?  The TV is a bit static filled. Lets work on those bunny ears. 

     I do not want to know what message was going to be on the side of the Goodyear blimp obviously scheduled to crash in my backyard next week.  

     I would still wonder. “Whats the meaning of it all”. Blissfully in more denial than early 60s Female Rock Hudson fans convinced he was hollywood’s most eligible bachelor. Well yes, but actually, no. 

     It is not just the shame that makes now the a hard time. Its not just the feeling of being stupidly unaware of wasted time, wasted energy, wasted talents. 

     It is more that it all feels like being cheated on. By yourself. And feeling you must fix and make up for it: NOW. The cure for perfectionism is, of course, perfectionism. right? .Its having to fight the desire to make up for it all in a day. Shed 35 pounds on the elliptical in 45 minutes. Let’s see, 350 strides a minute should do the trick. 

For a certain kind of person it is also realizing you must, for the sake of pure survival, take a step back and look at the painting on the wall and breathe. Not once. But ten times. Deeply. Closing your eyes. And then moving. Moving is so damn important. Rocks do not have to move, neither do tables. But people must. Often. 

      True story, my doctor just prescribed me… breathing… in response to my chest pain event. Is it that obvious?  Or did he just hear and see the ticking timer attached to the TNT stick I have been chewing on like Bugs Bunny’s carrot. 

     I know what it was all trying to say. In our perpetually crazy always on always GO and CONNECTED world, it is more critical than ever to stop. Take this all in. Accept the fact the train derailed. And then deliberately, carefully consciously put it back on the track. And first run true. Then run slow. Then pick up a little steam. 

     But we can not fix the train at all if we don’t know where it is.  We have no hope of getting to the destination stuck in a mire of endless lets do this about that right now damn it!  No, I must stop. I will stop. 10 times. The start of every hour. Breaths. Deep and real. 

     Maybe then I will do a list. With only 2 or three things on it. Maybe then I will take a moment to meditate. I actually managed to do it last weekend. For five whole minutes I sat on the couch and did nothing. I kept a pad beside me and managed to have the most productive two hours of the last two years right after. Just from five minutes of calm focused presence. Im not going to fix everything. I am not even going to try. Im just going to do my best to do the right thing, to treat myself with the same love and patience I so easily give away to others. And  that is not a bad thing at all.  In truth, it may be the most essential thing I have ever needed to do.  Not bad at all.