026. Do It Regardless
Sometimes, easy things can be the hardest things to do.
All you have to do is carry your laundry bag to machine, load it up, throw some soap in, pick a cycle then, press start. Though, when broken down, each task seems so far away for the other. So instead, you decide you will change what you had planned to wear for your upcoming occasion. Then at some point, when you reach into your closet and have nothing left to wear, having had re-worn every clothing item that wasn't 'all that dirty', you finally make your way to the machine.
Even then, as you approach the machine, you now realise you have much more to wash than a single cycle could handle. It then becomes that process you were already dreading x2.
I have noticed this pattern of behaviour across many aspects of my life. Perhaps there are some people who do not find themselves in any such predicament. Maybe, once upon a time they did, then one day, they broke the pattern and were freed from the avalanche of consequences that followed it.
I am yet to find my way there. And, this makes me wonder what causes such skilled procrastination to occur.
The things that seem easy now, have a way of making things more difficult later on.
It is much easier to take a cocktail of painkillers than it is to call the doctor, make an appointment, find a suitable time in your schedule, book the time off from work, remember the appointment, get dressed when you are already not feeling well, make your way to the appointment and then finally, see the doctor. Chances are, it won't end there, perhaps there will be some follow up tests that may require you to move from point A to B, then to point A again, all before you can get a prescription for half of the medicine you had already self-prescribed so, why not just stick to your painkiller cocktail and numb the pain until eventually, you stop to notice it.
I like to imagine that my problems are not unique. That many of my struggles are shared, maybe not by my immediate community but, by someone out there in this great big world. If mine or anyone else's problems were unique, then we likely would not have as much 'relatable content' in the media sphere.
So then I wonder, why can't hard things be easier to do; but, even the easy things too can be hard to do.
Some months ago, my mother made a comment about my new formed habits. She spoke about how I was disciplined with my fitness regimen. Something I never thought I would hear from her considering, years earlier, she grew frustrated with me after I stopped using my gym membership - which she had paid for - only two months in.
At the time, the gym was the only thing in my life. Instead of spending the year travelling and backpacking across Europe - like they do in the movies, my gap year was spent isolated, in a country where I had no friends, family, or community. The only thing that broke the monotony was the gym. I hoped I would meet some people my age and perhaps make some friends that way but, nothing came of it. In the end, it was just another part of the bland and monotonous life. Eventually, I could no longer gather the energy to go. Something that was once easy, became hard and exhausting.
Almost every year since then, I have accessed a gym at least once a year, never managing to be consistent for more than three weeks at a time. Then recently, after a trip where I was staying on the sixth floor of an apartment building with no stairs, my friend noted that my posterior had regained some of its lift. The following days, I figured my apartment building too had stairs. So, every morning, I would walk up and down 10 flights of stairs, a minimum of 3 times per session. That became my at-home-workout, coupled with some yoga. Eventually, I took my walks outdoors and it just became a part of how I lived my life. I had no intention of becoming disciplined. After some time, it just didn't make sense to go without moving my body, especially if I could easily access exercise the moment I stepped outside my door.
When my friend made note of the results she had noticed after my short trip, I had already been seeking ways to improve my health. I had become quite stagnant. No job to force me to leave my house and interact with natural light. Hesitant to donate more money to yet another gym. All of that made the stairs an easy option, awkward but, cost free and easy.
I never really understood the concept of discipline. I do not think I do now either.
About a month or so after I had turned my building into a stair-master, I had a really tough morning. It could have turned into a really tough day if I had allowed it to paralyse me. However, I had recently come to understand that moving your body can do wonderous things for your energy and your mind. With tears in my eyes, I got dressed anyways. Instead of the usual 3 reps on the stairs, I opted for 5. When I felt as though I was on the brink of collapse, with every stair, I showed myself that my body was more capable than what my mind was trying to trick me into believing.
I felt amazing at the end. My woe did not feel as heavy.
Perhaps that is what discipline is - doing it anyways.
Perhaps that's the solution, doing it anyways. Easy or hard, do it regardless, and do it now. I am yet to discover.
It doesn't seem like it could be that easy but, I guess that's where the problem lies. We assume difficulty onto tasks, creating complications that only prolong the experience of actually doing the thing. Perhaps the time spent meditating on this idea is all a part of that delay in loading the washer or calling the doctor. Alas, only time will tell.
As for now, I cannot believe I have managed to keep this going for SIX weeks!! What!? V impressed! I really did not know I was capable but, I hoped and I continue to hope that I can keep this series alive until the very end. Those 90 days are now down to 64, insane! Thank you so much for reading along and giving my thoughts your time.
I have done my best today, and I am excited to end my day knowing I have done all that I could. I look forward to sharing another moment of this one precious life with you tomorrow.
