It dawned on me that what I really need is inspiration, not encouragement.
Whether pounds or pain, what really motivates me to move?
My hubby wasn’t being mean, he’s made of sugar. I think he was trying to motivate me. I’m pretty athletic, and capable of a lot more than I’m doing. I used to climb mountains. I’m trying not to let what might be a sports hernia hold me back.
I was inspired to hear from a reader with MS and a reader who’s a stay-at-home Dad, both striving against time, in spite of pain, and without coddling from a mate.
There is a well-known phrase in Hebrew that comes to mind:
Im ein ani li mi li? U-ch’she’ani le’atzmi mah ani? Ve-im lo achshav eymatai?
If I am not for myself, who will be for me? And if I am for myself, what am I? And if not now, when? (Pirkei Avot 1.14)
I’ve been reminded—okay,forced—many times throughout life to look and listen inwardly for answers. Usually when I was traveling solo, but also when relationships fell short, friends disappeared, and parents said, “You’re on your own.” The best growth stimulus for character is to work alone.
As part of my 90-day Outward Bound survival course, we did three solos, where you’re dropped off in the wilderness with your sleeping bag, a tarp, water, clothes, and your journal—not much else, not even a flashlight or matches—and picked up 24, 48, or 72 hours later. I wrote a piece about my 3-night solo in Peru. It’s called Kaleidoscopy. I hope you enjoy it.
Back to the top, then. Please, dear outspoken feminists, retract your claws. I wasn’t ripping on my husband, just publicly justifying my sloth. It’s me who deserves the fury and the fire roasting. Or a little inspiration. Whichever you choose to share. Let the comments fly!