I Refuse to Crumble

Hey world,

There is a disembodiment occurring - where my body deliberately moves through the spaces I currently occupy, and my mind floats nearby, like the balloon that trails behind a running child, oscillating between floating weightlessly and realizing that you're tethered to something that moves without your control.

The mind, heart and body is not in sync...I've learned that solitude doesn't result in redressing internal conflicts, and companionship only fills the cracks so far as the time together elapses. 

What I've alluded to thus far on the blog, and what I've finally articulated is this:
I'm not satisfied. 

I started asking myself the questions I posted before:

Am I happy with what I accomplished today?
Do I love where I am in this moment?
Am I in love with what I do?
Do I love me?

And the answers kept coming back: 

Kind of. 
No.
 I don't think so. 
Yes. 

Those answers need to become YES. YES. YES.YES.

So I've taken it upon myself to get myself back together. The larger causes of my dissatisfaction cannot be addressed or changed overnight. But, I realized, I should absolutely be happy with what I accomplish each and every day. And if I am happy with what I accomplish each day, I will also start to love where I am in this moment.



If you know me, you know that I legitimately HATE exercise. The last time I went to a gym was in early 2012....I think. But exercise requires discipline. It requires your body and your mind to come together. It's not a battle of which is stronger, but how much the two can endure together. So this is the first method I'm employing to bring satisfaction into my life. 

For the month of March, I have committed to go to the gym for at least one hour (on machines) 5-6 days a week. 
For the month of April, I have signed up for two kickboxing classes, and will attend one or the other every. single. day. for. thirty. days.

I will do things that I once thought I couldn't. Or wouldn't. 
I am going to push myself to reunite. 

One of my favorite songs from high school has a line that says:
"The hardest part of living is just taking the breath to stay." - Mayday Parade


I read that as: Living is intentional. Breathing, while it seems like something we do inherently, is an intentional action that our body makes, every second of every day, to keep us alive for another moment to experience in this world. It's not enough to wake up and hope that your lungs hold out for you, you have to remind them (and yourself) that there's more than just breathing. 

I'm telling my lungs to breathe again. 
And I can feel them expand and contract as I climbed 40 floors today, bicycled 8 miles, and rowed .6 miles.

Change is coming.

xoxo,
M


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