COMMIT TO NOTHING

Quitters never win.

That's what I've been told as inspiration, oftentimes. But has it been useful? 

What do I aspire to win?

I ask myself this question as I join the drive thru line at Icecream Palace-an act of disregarding my diet. Four cars in front of me, I assess. This gives just enough time for my attention to wander, my eyes looking over other parts of the shopping center seeing people move about captured within their own bubbles. There's a woman smoking a cigarette standing at the door of a department store; a man holding a multi-leash, attached to four black poodles, wrestling with in-sync cooperation on the way inside the pet store; and two plus size women are chatting together as they leave the gym. I should be passing them on my way inside, but here I am damn near drooling for a taste of my favorite ice cream. Blue Strawberry Dream is worth giving in to weakness. As of today, I quit working towards my resolution. 

I really thought I could do it. The doctor said I need to do it. Remaining overweight has caused me to need major surgery; I can't think about that right now. I respect Icecream Palace and the folly they allow too much.

As soon as my tongue touches the cold creamy goodness, I feel guilty. I have lied to myself, once again, about going on a diet.

Why do this? Why lie to others and fool myself?

Every year people make resolutions at the beginning of a new year. They wrangle up something troubling from the year before and vow to respond appropriately within the span of fresh time. Then, they congratulate each other for committing to better lives, then they celebrate-toasting, "To better living."

But once the gun smoke clears and the confetti has been thrown, father time moves us along on our individual paths while having the same problems that plagued us days before, in the year recently passed. We are challenged by the structure of our lives, the feel, the tone as we gallantly incorporate small increments of something different into our days.

I've lived a plenty of years where my new year's resolution was quickly made, and even more quickly a thought of yesterday. This isn't the first time, let me say.

Will it be the last?

I scrape the plastic bowl with a plastic spoon aiming to gather remnants of blue substance clinging to the square pattern. 

What is the point? Why follow a trend only to end up a loser, a quitter at the end of it, every year?

I prefer to win over losing. This is true for many people. Never-the-less, a damn holiday has been coined to monument our morbid success with resolutions. I'm not outraged about it, yet I notice. 

Why are there no easy-to-get-to trash receptacles at this place? I'm suppose to indulge in their product and take the trash naturally generated with me.

I leave the shopping center. Now, I am a gulity quitter in need of a place to discard waste.

Have I wasted time and money?

I think about all of my efforts, along with recent activities, after having purchased a gym membership the day after the holiday, feeling amped and ready to work towards shedding 50 lbs by summer. I found comfortable workout apparel at the Amazon website. I committed to working out a minimum of twice a week, along with embracing a sensible diet. I intended to employ discipline within this portion of my life. As a result, I would be stronger and healthier, thereby with more energy to show interest in things beyond the comfort of my home.

It was a gradual decline. 

First, changes on the job affected my time off causing me to shave my workout plan to once a week; twice when life allowed. Then, my ex-husband served me with a certified letter requesting pet support for the cat he took with him disregarding the 10 years I dedicated to both of them. My nerves were rattled, even though on the outside I remained cool. I thought I was over the disrespect that man put me through. I found myself eating a gallon of sherbert even though it wasn't on my dietary plan. It numbed my throat, though-repressed the things I wanted to yell at my cellphone with that idiot on the other end. 

Two weeks passed with me having no thought about going to the gym. I went to work. I came home. I slept, and in between I ate whatever my body, or my mind asked for. By March, the diet was history. This is why I admitted, on this New Year's Eve, to having failed to reach my goal several months before. 

My failure encouraged me to let the past pass with the season, and try again. I was going to make my goal reality, having reinstated my gym membership and joined an online group focused on healthy weight loss and supportive social connections. Paid membership provided a personalized diet plan I intended to follow. 

What's wrong with me?

I stop at a gas station blocks away from the shopping center I just left. Here, I throw away my trash and visit the restroom. I buy a cup of coffee, to which I add fifteen sugars and three rich hazelnut creamer cups. My guilt increases. I try to ignore it. 

Why don't I make healthier choices?

I feel like an addict, chained to a particular way of living. I have tried to change; and this year's blizzard that came during the second week of the year decided to challenge my intentions. I surrendered with ease. This is why I am contemplating the whole business of resolutions while sitting in my lazy-boy chair with a slice of pineapple cheesecake and the remote control. 

"Most people give up on their resolutions by January 19th," reports a talk show host. 

It's an epidemic. The 19th is tomorrow. I, too, have already given up. 

I check my job app for my work schedule. I have to be ready to get back at it Monday. I have one more day off.

What can I do, within the time I have left, to assist my desire to feel better?

My feet pulsate in absorption of freedom to relax from carrying me to and fro. My legs are tight, especially my calves. My spine protests the shift when I scoot forward in process of getting up from the chair. The hard floor beneath the carpet press against my body weight, causing me to feel heavy, and quite unstable. I take a moment to locate my balance before continuing to the kitchen.  

While washing my dessert plate, I think about something discussed in the group. Everything a person does becomes a part of their lifestyle, whether this happens gradually or abruptly.

Imagine your life as a merry-go-round spinning in a carefree park. In order for anyone to be able to jump on without disturbing the movement of the lifestyle, and without causing discomfort to the person intending to jump on, they will need to time their jump just right, and also be certain of the landing. The same is true with incorporating new elements into a person's lifestyle. 

I think about this, examining this concept closer relative to my life. 

My life oftentimes does feel like a merry-go-round, always moving within a specific groove. Most of the time I am on the go, unless I am off from work. Even then, I move about town catching up with my personal life. I have to make appointments, attend appointments, grocery shop, etc. All the while, I am dodging unsettling people and circumstances. There are times when these two are unavoidable. 

I committed to losing weight five years ago, because doing so will improve the quality of my life. What good is living if not within the highest quality one can achieve. This is the same reason I committed to my ex-husband. Now, I'm stuck with his harassment, even after quitting him cold turkey. I don't really like commitments. There is something restricting about it. I don't do restrictions. That's why I'm trying to figure out how to become more disciplined. 

Commitment to myself is natural. There is no need to do so, outwardly, unless doing so inspires the movement. As a quitter, I understand I have quit my voluntary agreement to be confined to any idea-even my own. It makes sense. I can't trap myself into success no more than a person can jump onto a spinning merry-go-round without being fluid in their attempt. 

I feel pride replace guilt over failing my resolution. I revere having quit before the new holiday, mostly because I am like many other people in the world. My natural Aquarian nature does its thing with this information and decides I will be different. I will be a person who quit her resolution, but not the attainment of her goal. Yet and still, I commit to nothing. 

Just before sundown, I opt for fresh air over the stale atmosphere of where I have spent the past 72 hours. I put on comfortable clothes and shoes for the walk. About two hours later, I am chilled more than preferred when I return, yet my legs and feet feel great. Instead of sitting as inclined, I move about the house before blending a low carb high in vitamins smoothie. Can you believe it? I did fifteen jumping jacks before taking my shower.

I applaud myself inwardly.