i saw a very inspirational TED talk about gratitude. first thing you're to do every morning upon waking is to think of five people you are grateful to/for and express that gratitude in your head. this, before your feet ever touch the ground, is supposed to ground you firmly in positive emotions, feel goodery, and general unicorn fodder. i did it right after the TED talk. and then i never did it again.
my bananologist told me to write 3 pages of stream of consciousness every day when i first wake (i assume this is after i've expressed my gratitude to the special five). i've so far failed at that with an admirable degree of thoroughness.
each time i see my massage therapist he gives me exercises meant to make me feel less like an arthritic octogenarian. i have yet to do even one of those exercises, despite walking out of there with a very firm intention of doing them regularly.
my sports medicine doctor once showed me a simple and quick way of strengthening my core muscles. i did it three times. maybe four.
there are amazing people out there trying to help me get better at being human. they will fail every goddamn time, because i seem to have taken up the call of self improvement once when i started to floss daily all those years ago and apparently that's all that's available to me in terms of internal resources.
i am in the enviable position of having many toddlers available to me for close inspection and study without actually having to keep one in the house and i am appalled at their behaviour - they are tiny little emotionally fucked up sociopaths, a fact both mitigated and exacerbated by their short little attention spans; they are demanding; they have zero concept of time; they get frustrated by the dumbest things; they are terrifyingly egomaniacal; they are often violent; their mercurial charm is equalled only by their malevolence; they are dirty and loud and have those eternally sticky hands (ok, that last point is not really a propos to my subject) watching parents navigating the toddler years is magical and heartwarming, because my own auntly heart is often filled with feelings of loathing, frustration, and intense gratitude for my own child-free life. why am i going on at length about this? because i realised today that parenting toddlers is actually unnervingly similar to my own little journey of self-discovery and self-improvement.
each day the same questions need to be answered; each night, the same demons faced. each week or month the same lessons need to be learned. come to think of it, self-improvement is actually WORSE than raising toddlers, because they, at least, are sponge-like in their brainal area, meaning they learn things quickly. me? not so much. oh hey! you hate your body? i thought we worked this shit out! no? we have to go through this AGAIN? sweet jesus on a pogo stick! why? why? WHYYYYYYY? if i was my own parent on this little journey, i'd have dropped me off at the nearest orphanage and gone off "to buy a pack of smokes" because enough is enough.
but on i trudge, because, as the man says, it's the journey, not the destination. and if you think about it, it's kinda true because what is the destination if not death?
think on that!