Today while meditating, I had a small revelation over something I’m sure I must have known and been feeling for some time.
For context, for the past few weeks I have been feeling quite depressed, unmotivated and just tired of most things. I know a lot of that comes with changes in my life, being forced to wait in limbo, and also some things really not going how I wanted them to. Often after a surge of chaos or chaotic rushing around, the lull afterwards is very underwhelming and leaves you feeling hollow. I had visions of myself as a kind of scarecrow, a hollow person made of chaff.
Today was an okay day, I have been trying to motivate myself to stay healthy and keep exercising. It has been an up and down battle where I stay fairly diligent for a few days, and then lapse a little. After a HIIT workout, I sat down on the driveway, facing the setting sun and did my 20 minute meditation. My thoughts took me to quite a few places before noticing them, letting them go, and then returning to the breath. In one of those lapses of concentration, I realized I was considering my life and why was I exercising and trying to eat healthy? What was the real motivation behind it?
Am I simply vain? Is my desire to stay in shape, exercise, lose my stomach, all for ego and vanity? That must surely be a part of it. Why do I keep dieting, not eating for 18 to 20 hours each day, and keeping carbs out of my diet? Wouldn’t it just be nice to have a beer at the end of the day and not worry about a few extra pounds? Do I really need 20 hours of fasting to help my genetics stay 0.01% younger in 50 years? Or again, was I simply just doing these things for self centered and egotistical reasons?
That’s when a new kind of thought entered my mind. I’m dying. Not only am I getting closer and closer to death, but for what I consider myself to be, an active person able to move my body a certain way, to feel a certain way, I am already past my mid life. Being a gymnast from a young age and learning to train and obsess about physical fitness has always imprinted very heavily on my life. So much of how I live, the relationships I form and the values I carry are shaped around that sport and what it instilled into my developing mind. If I don’t push myself to physical exhaustion, if I’m not on the verge of throwing up after conditioning, I haven’t worked hard enough. If my body shows any signs of being slow, soft or round, I’m immediately depressed and unhappy with myself.
These are not healthy habits. These are destructive and obsessive compulsions that lead to body dysmorphia, low self esteem and eating disorders. These are integral parts of who I am. And in that world, in that world of being able to do things which people feel are physically impressive, my body is old. I’m almost 37 years old. Very soon, no matter how hard I train, my body really won’t respond how I want it to. I’m already past my prime. I’ve wasted and missed out on my best years. And looking back, I didn’t accomplish the things I would have wanted to. There is a lot of regret trapped in my past. Although even if I had, even if I had done something remarkable with my life physically, I don’t think I would be in a different situation right now. I would probably be just as unhappy and stuck, feeling like a has been and washed up.
I realize that these compulsions to be in shape, to push myself and be active, to diet and eat in a way which helps me maintain what I think is a more desirable form, are feeble attempts at running away from the truth which I’m faced with. Everything I was taught to value and push and work on is slowly deteriorating and breaking down. I’m not getting stronger or faster or leaner or more fit. I’m just slowing down that downward spiral until one day I’ll be forced to face reality. In those moments of self reflection, based on what I grew up valuing, I know that I’m closer to that point now than I want to admit.
These are completely selfish problems and obsessions of mine. I know for most people, being fit and active are goals they can feel happy and satisfied with. They can derive meaning and comfort knowing they are aging gracefully or prolonging their life. I don’t get that kind of satisfaction or comfort. Today during my meditation I was forced to stare quietly into the empty notion that no matter what I do, I am already on the downward slope in life.
I’m sure the last 6 or 7 years have had this specter looming in the back of my mind, unsettling my thoughts and adding to my general sense of unhappiness with myself. It’s a little different now that I can name it as one aspect of my own depression and personal issues. I also recognize that finding value in life is something everyone can do in a variety of things, family, friends, careers, children, whatever it may be. I just know that for me, as twisted or vain as it might seem, this one aspect of physical health was a big one for me. Amidst all my insecurities, all my fears of being inadequate, a loser and unwanted, being able to excel physically was something I could always work on, and in some ways, make up for all the other deficiencies in my life. I have always felt small, alone and unworthy of being noticed. Working hard and pushing through physical pain were ways for me to cope with those feelings. Now that part is slipping away as well. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe that’s a crutch and unhealthy obsession I should have left a long time ago.
Realizing problems or insecurities is often a far cry away from facing them and dealing with them. We’ll see how things go from here. I have a feeling I won’t be able to stop pushing myself, its been too large of a part of my sense of self worth for too long. But hopefully I’ll find something to replace it, something that doesn’t leave me feeling so hollow, a scarecrow made of chaff.