Second Gear

There is a small immobile pick up truck parked in front of our office this week. The owner was really happy to remove it from storage, having paid off the back debt.  Then he tried to move it and he couldn't get it to go into second gear. So there she sits. I see it every day when I pull in and pull out, and it bugs me. I don't care about the fact there is an immobile truck parked by mine.  I'm annoyed by the fact a nice tenant thought he had some forward momentum going and instead, there she sits.

I've been in reruns this week, painting furniture & watching the documentaries "The 60s" and 'The 70s' on Netflix.  

And they remind me of that damn truck.

I was born in 1962 and I've always been fascinated with the movements for social change that were born in the same decade and the one that followed.  Civil rights, women's rights, LGBT rights all made amazing strides in that twenty year period. Humanity was scaling some steep slopes rather spryly… And then we couldn't get it out of first gear.  

It really isn't surprising when you're making giant forward strides on so many fronts that progress slows.  Sometimes it even halts while adjustments are made. But eventually we must resume the climb. The events of the last few months have me convinced that we are not just stuck in second. Watching all that was achieved in that 20 year span, I feel shame and helplessness when I view the events of the past few months. Forward progress has not only slowed or even stopped, we appear to have jammed it into reverse.

There is strength in passive resistance.  There is humanity in passive resistance. I have to believe both these premises, as much as I believe that the acts of madmen, in the end, will not overwhelm either. Institutionalized divisiveness, the blame game & calls to violence leave us in reverse. Please consider that elected voices spouting the rhetoric of hate, no matter how subtly, are not motivated, as they claim by concern for the greater good. Please stop. Breathe. See the whole picture. And VOTE. 

You're Gonna Get Hurt

Last night's project--'dis-en-brownifying' this little console. :)

Ten years ago Ikea put out an ad campaign depicting lab coated scientists watching other lab coated scientists test their products for durability.  It was one of my favorite commercials ever, mostly due to the deadpan faces of the scientists with the clipboards. One nebbishy, middle-aged scientist with a severely receding hairline would open the cabinet repeatedly saying over and over again "mom can I have a cookie mom can I have a cookie mom can I have a cookie mom can I  have a cookie?" In a completely uninflected, expressionless monotone while a like-faced, bespectacled woman made check marks on a clipboard. My favorite part was the nerd-scientist joylessly jumping up & down on a bed while the other scientist made checks on a clipboard & repeated in a monotone, 'you're gonna get hurt you're gonna get hurt you're gonna get hurt.'  If you want a laugh, Google 'you're gonna get hurt ikea' & watch the original. 

Yesterday's voluntary, 'you're gonna get hurt' project: unloading heavy pails

As I'm going through the oh-so-fun process of getting in shape at age 54, I'm realizing I'm surrounded by lab-coated, clipboard-wielding scientist wannabes who worry that 'I'm gonna get hurt,' & also seem fond of reminding me that extreme activities are better left to peeps twenty years younger. While I appreciate the concern, I want to say here & now you can all put down your clipboards, loosen your lab coats & stand down. I'm not as crazy as I seem. 

For one thing, yoga-for-years keeps me 'bendy.'  

Yesterday's other project--AFTER...&

BEFORE (just to mess with the order requirements in your head)

For another, I do either 100 or on good days, 200 crunches everyday. People say lift with your legs. Instead, I concentrate on lifting with my stomach, focusing on exhaling & tightening those muscles before & during each attempt.  

And most importantly, I'm fully aware of (& not one whit regretful about) my age. I'm aware the cape & tights aren't as zingy with immortal juice as they were when I was thirty. One of the reasons I started trying to get fit was my knees. To quote a favorite line from a favorite movie ('An Affair to Remember'), ' My knees--they are as old as me.'  Thirty-one pounds ago, my knees hated my living guts & my sofa was my best friend. I had stupidly taken a years-long hiatus from yoga (from whence I derive any remaining superpowers). And most decisions to do or not to do included a fear of getting hurt.  

But there was something much scarier & self-defeating looming. Unless I made real, radical, tough choices & made them immediately, I was going to have to (horrors) cull my closet contents yet again to get rid of the outgrown, & truly horrifying--the occasional chest discomfort might one day be an actual heart issue. 

54 could be half time or the end of the line, & while not completely within my control, a lot of factors are...so here I am, & why I like the challenge of so-called 'grunt work.'  

See Ma--no hernia, just happy!

Treadmills & oval tracks don't get it for me. Effort should produce tangible results, or at minimum a pleasurable or novel experience. When I was younger I jumped out of a plane & I used to run the road along the north shore coastline, then halfway up 'the Beast,' (the killer hill of triathlon fame) daily. Both fell into the category of pleasurable & novel experiences. 

I still have the urge to jump off or out of something, & I'm not ruling that out. My knees, though much happier now would no doubt flip that script if I tried running again. That isn't fear of injury, rather a realistic interpretation of an expired parts warranty. So...the tangible results idea is my current playbook. I try to build something, plant something, physically make something every day. And when I finish lifting rocks or roof coating pails, or pick-axing rocky soil to plant a tree, or build a wall, or plant a gross of seeds, I can see more than numbers on a scale or better fitting clothing. 

And that will do nicely until they finish the zipline...or until I check out the new hang-gliding group.