Thoughts on Metamorphosis for You, Grasshopper

(Ow! I hurt all over! It’s the AbSwing’s fault. OMG. 70 stomach crunches on there yesterday and today and I feel like my torso’s on fire. And my ribs and my glutes and my thighs. Nice new addition to my fitness regime.)

I mentioned in a comment on the below posting that I’m sort of going after total change in my life. Everything I was doing, I want to change. Everything. In every single area of my life, I can improve. And I know it. I’m happier already, so I can’t imagine how fun my year will be if this progresses like I hope it to.

I’ve been looking at myself very critically for a while now, and it’s been really, really hard emotionally to let myself not just have glimpses of what it is I don’t like about myself, but to really peer in and see where I’m going wrong and what I need to do to correct it. Right now, I’m not comfortable enough to share particulars of that process with you, but it’s basically like this:

Wow. Fuck. Can’t believe I did that again. Man, I hate it when I do that. How’d I get so self-centred? Geez. Duly noted. I remember how X did the total opposite, and it was like people just wanted to drink her in. It created interest. Hmm. Next time, I’ll try to remember that. I know better, now I’ll remember. Good for me to spot that. Next time.

Yeah, fun night in, no doubt. Don’t forget the wine, and a hot bath helps.

But I had to get my head in the game. You can’t change to something if you don’t know what you’re changing from. Gotta know who you are before you can become who you want to be.

Then there’s different forums for change. There’s social, financial, professional, physical, and mental, and probably a few others. Like experiential, perhaps, environmental, too. And I’m going to change every single one of those areas. The good news for me is, I have been consciously trying to grow and change for a few months now. In both the financial and career areas, I’ve had progress. I’ve also had moments of success in the physical realm, too. So it’s not like I’m starting from nothing.

Hence the many-splendoured modern torture device, The AbSwing. If you do this thing right, and in large enough quantities, you’re in a world of hurt. Which is where I currently reside. Just another cog in my wheel of fitness. Tomorrow is both yoga AND the gym, so.

The AbSwing now sits where my beanbag once was. Sick of it consuming my living room, I’ve put the big, fat cow-patterned bastard (5′ round pill, 2 feet deep. Monster.) into storage. Where it was is now my new yoga space and permanent home to my AbSwing so that I will do 70 pain-inducing crunches a day, which I consider of huge importance since my weak core contributes to so many stupid things I can live without.

And as I continue to whittle away the clutter of my house, I will make it easier to keep clean, and more conducive to a clear head when writing. I will feel more like being social and inviting people in. Having a new haircut makes me want to go out more. New shoes, and the new jeans I plan to buy this weekend, along with other items I’ve acquired of late, will give me that confidence I have to have in order to feel like I belong to the social events I intend to find my way into.

It’s not like I’ve never been in the social mix. I used to sleep through college and get in after the sun rose. Every single day. I did it, loved it, and miss like hell having that kind of energy for life with people. I miss people really enjoying being around me. My friends are old and married and I think I need me new young things that will spark my life rather nicely.

I don’t, however, want to validate myself through others’ eyes, so I’m making sure I also keep quality time for myself. I want to remember who I was when I used to love doing month-long roadtrips down the American coast… solo. I’m a week into this thing and I can tell you she’s in sight already. I took her to the movies this past Saturday and had a beer afterwards, too.

But this feeling I have of knowing I’m on my way? I wouldn’t really have that, I don’t think, if I hadn’t taken some rather dark time of introspection over the holidays to clue myself in (including all the areas I had already had advances in). I took a mental snapshot of everything I was, everything I wanted to be, and everything that needed to change.

And my first step was: A haircut and losing the beanbag.

Well, a little bit before Christmas I bought myself a change journal and have since completely forgotten to write in it, but what I did write stands as one of the oldest, lamest cliches ever… yet so true. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Steff also, rumour has it, will not be built in a day.

Which makes for good blogging, we can only hope, right? So, there’s that. And I mentioned this weekend’s the jeans weekend? Yep. Fun. đŸ™‚

And: Ow. Thus was born the love-hate relationship with the AbSwing. (Oh, and anyone who disses this thing isn’t doing it right. Seriously. But it can’t be your only exercise. Variety, baby. Still, doing this 5 times a week will do wonders for me.)

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