How many parts of our lives do we mash together, trying to make things fit? How many times have we found ourselves in a job or a relationship, squirming and trying to change (we never really changed) in order to fit our role?
Posts from the ‘Essays’ Category
We all know cancer sucks. Jason Fine knows that better than most, because it's killing him. But he's going down swinging with kindness.
For the first time, I'm publishing a story by another writer on this blog because time is short and I think you should know Jason's story while he still draws breath on this Earth. Project Kindness is perhaps the way we all should live, and it's the way Jason has chosen to go out. Thank you, Jason. Even though I never met you in person, I will always remember you.
Jason Fine’s Project Kindness by Priscilla Tallman
Jason Fine,...Read more
We feel dark. Depressed. Down. Whatever you want to call it.
We're just barely ourselves, or we're the lowest energy form of ourselves. Dark thoughts, little action, waves slowly lapping the shore at low tide. The water ebbs and we can see the bones of our dreams, drying in the sun. We can seemingly no more rouse our spirits to reveille than we can use our fingers to pull the ocean to the dunes.
And we try to keep to ourselves, because who the heck wants to see the real and the ugly inside our heads?
I was chasing (or trying to chase) my riding partner up a dusty trail yesterday when it occurred to me, in the middle of mashing my pedals and sucking the warm morning wind, that I wasn't going to catch her. She had 25 yards on me, and I had 25 years on her. And then I realized that I didn't need to catch her anymore.
How bad do you want it? How much will you give?
The answers to these two questions will do more than guide you; they will reveal you. Because your desire to achieve and your willingness to sacrifice for that achievement will most likely determine whether you are a 100-percenter, a 95-perecenter, or a 90-percenter. Whether you are a person who got the job done, or a person who almost got the job done.
I didn't touch a barbell for five days. I lost seven pounds, but that lightness certainly didn't come from sweating anything except life's unexpected turns.
No workouts. No lifting. Not even an air squat. I didn't do my daily bend-and-bows. No stretching for my wonky SI joint. My stick for the Burgener warm-up sat in the corner, gathering dust.