The problem with consistency, at least for me, is its “neverendingness”. It is perpetually expected of you, whether your goal is to graduate, to lose weight, to attain skin goals or even just to work on your inner self and exorcise childhood traumas. It’s a never-ending vortex that simply takes and takes and takes and for something that is supposed to be fulfilling, it sure is a lot of work.
Sometime around the middle of this year I decided it was a GREAT idea to get healthier, you know get rid of the extra flab, even out the skin tone etcetera. Boy was I woefully underprepared. I mean it seemed simple enough. I was armed with intermittent fasting, exercise regimens and videos, low carb meals and alternative substitutes. And so, I lined up my fighters. The first thing I will say is that cauliflower rice is NOT the girl she thinks she is. I mean, I kept expecting to taste rice and when my taste buds registered, all they could taste was disappointment and bad decisions. I mean I love cauliflower as much as the next person, but it masquerading as rice was seriously messing with my sense of exactment and a place for everything and everything in its place.
Don’t even get me started on the exercise. I hate running, that is not a secret, I’ve tried every form or manner of cajoling my spirit I could conjure up, it did not work. My younger brother has tried many a time to accompany me. He is one of those motivational runner types. He stands besides you in his best imitation of military command and says, “right, mdhara, we are going to run from here until the end of those two houses” He really tries his best, because by the end of the first house I really want to stop, then he morphs into ultra-commander king mode and starts yelling,” Come on!!! You got this!!! One more step, just run a little more” Which as you guessed never really works because he is my baby brother and commander mode never works on me and so I stop, hahahha.
This time I had a plan, since I had ruled out running, I decided to do cardio exercise videos. The first time i tried Zumba I nearly died. You would think it’s an exaggeration, but I am not even kidding. You see one of the after effects of compounded grief, a pandemic, life struggles and constant shifts? Is that packing on the pounds is so much easier especially when you reach for comfort food. Now far be it from me to judge anyone for being plus size, hardly, I just wanted to be able to climb up a flight of stairs and not breathe like a drowning hyena. Its a personal choice. That’s not too much to ask right? Well, tell that to my virgin voyage of Zumba. It started off well enough, I pranced around my living room turned gym and mimicked the steps, kick, kick, open, turn, swing your hips, go down lower. The problem started when I was about 10 minutes in. I started feeling an acute, sharp stabbing pain on BOTH sides of my abdomen, side stitches, and they kicked in so bad I had to collapse onto the sofa.
Suffice to say, at least it hasn’t ended in doom and gloom, no, if you were to see me now you would be so proud, I finish the entire 45 minutes and go back again tomorrow. My only gripe is that there is no graduation, you keep it by maintaining it and u maintain it by doing it every day. If you think about it that’s the same thought process that coke addicts use to get addicted to coke AND to keep doing coke. If that right there isn't a huge gaping flaw in the system then I don't know what is.
The issue extends to my gripe with hope. Hope is by pure definition premised on the utterly unfounded feeling that MAYBE things will get better. There is no sign that they will, if anything, the sky has collapsed around you and the earth has bottomed out beneath you. Hope dictates that you believe that everything will be alright. Don’t get me wrong, I have mountains of respect for people with unwavering hope, I used to be one of them. Perhaps life made me a cynic and I changed teams, but the fallacy of hope is that there is no guarantee that there is any pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Its more of serendipity, a happy accident borne and rooted in believing that ultimately this SHOULD work. The nature of hope is similar to the continual qualities of consistency. They thrive on happening every day and believing every day and letting up means you falter and the whole link chain breaks into pieces.
Perhaps that’s why life is so exhausting, the ever present need to keep pushing. I fantasize of a life that doesn’t require so much draining effort. The effort to find your calling, to be a good friend, to be successful, to look good, to leave a legacy, to be an amazing wife, a present sister and an unflinching support pillar. The flaw in the whole fantasy is the pure joy you and your loved ones experience when you ARE a good person. The results of eating your veggies and drinking your water, being a good friend and working on inner peace. I heard a quote today, “Everything is hard, choose your hard.” Maybe we will never find the answer, maybe we just have to accept that it’s an interminable loop, try as you may, you can't leave the loop. Hope, consistency, faith, exercise, success, motivation, the rent is due every day.
Comments