The One Thing That Makes You Feel Good

It's strange, actually. There seem to be no exceptions to this. The one thing that is always sure to make you feel better...
...is exercise.

It has something to do with our internal body chemistry. (It's endorphins, that I know. Wish I knew more.) The thing is that I feel it, no matter what the doctors say. The hardest part is to start the exercise, almost every time, but once you're in, the blood rushes and your whole body conspires against you to make you feel good.

The sad part is that it's one hell of an achievement just to start. I used to exercise every single day for a couple of months, but once I got out of my routine, it all went dead. Now I wish I could make myself pick up those dumbbells again, or maybe even do a couple of push-ups,  but I never seem to find the time. Surfing the net, no problem. Reading some crappy detective novel, I'm in. But doing myself a favour so big I can never seem to repay myself, hell, no. I feel so stupid.

The problem is that it somehow seems illogical to "waste" my precious free time on exercise. Everything else in my everyday life somehow has a greater perceived value for me. Reading is intellectual, surfing the net - well, it certainly beats squats. And that truly is a shame. Because, ten years from now - hey, even ten months from now - I will really be glad that I did those squats (and the bloody push-ups). Will I remember anything I've read today on any of the blogs? Not sure. During my days of active exercising, I used to notice a lot of progress in my whole body - and, because of the good feeling afterwards - in my mind as well. It beats depression, every single time.

I used to notice that even in the long gone days when I went to the gym, but it was all mixed up in the excitement of actually doing something good for my body and the sweat and the pain and the long journey home from the gym. When I exercise at home, I don't really sweat. I don't even feel that much pain, maybe when I get rusty or overwork myself. Here, I really feel better, just better, but also illogically happier and more inclined to do other stuff, say, study.

So, you don't need sweets. (Well, sometimes you do, but that's another thing.;) You don't need television, nor your mp3, nor a happy pill. (Unless your problem go way deeper than simple laziness and a mildish feeling of unhappiness.) You just need to shake your booty.

I can't wait to start working on mine again!

Living on the Edge

Recently I've found myself in a strange, strange situation.

It's been almost a month since I've begun doing things I need to do on a regular basis. Writing papers for college. Meeting all my responsibilities, writing down all my appointments. I can't claim to have lived this way for the whole month, but for a better part of it, yes.

I've become... a not-so-lazy-anymore person. I'm doing things. I'm creating stuff. And I'm scared.

For one thing, I'm scared of what will happen next, when my urge to be productive (and, via productivity, feel good - what it's all about, after all) dies of natural causes. Or when I run out of ideas and have no clue what to do next. What will I do, walk aimlessly around the house, surf the net all day long? What will I live for then?

On the other hand, I'm scared of the possibility that my productivity phase won't end anytime soon. What if I stay like this, having to do stuff all the time, having no time or patience just to waste time and enjoy myself? I'm scared of losing touch with the real world, forgetting what it was all about while chasing some distant dream.

The key to it all is, as always, balance. That's the one thing I'm lacking, the one thing that keeps me scared. If I learn to keep balance between the two tides, juggle the urge to create and the desire to be, I'll make it. If I don't... who knows. One thing is sure - I cannot survive (happy and healthy) without both parts of my life. (Been there, done that, never wish to go back.) When I rely on work, I end up exhausted and sick; when I practice doing nothing for days at a time, I end up depressed and frustrated. None of it makes me happy alone as well as they do combined. I just have to work out the details - remember to care when I'm procrastinating as much as never forget to not care about it, from time to time. Remember to exercise, no matter what. Remember to talk to my friends and never forget to be alone. I guess that's where the magic is.

But I have to tell you one little secret. I am enjoying myself. Being on the productive side doesn't feel half as bad as I used to imagine. And, even more, it's making me feel better and more alive than ever. I don't really stop and stare at the wall lamenting my life and loneliness anymore. Nor do I sweat the delays. I know that I'm doing something, and I'm doing it well, there's less and less stuff that can make me feel unworthy nowadays.

Confidence, I guess that's the word. Self-confidence. Not faking it, this time. I swear.;)

Taking a Look Back

Making mistakes is one of the easiest things in this world. It's what comes afterwards that worries me.

I'm not going to spread out the story of my life here, I don't even want to relive the past week and all the goodness it brought me (through my own doing, of course). I just want to focus for a moment on this feeling, the feeling after making quite a big mistake, and having hurt another (which is, from my point of view, the greatest mistake ever).

I have a couple of options here: first, retreat. Make a total stop, end all I had planned before, and do nothing. Leave things the way they were before, and use my mistake as an excuse to stop trying to do what I intended to in the first place - just because the first try failed so hideously.

Second: apologize. Apologize a lot. Drown in self deprecation until only my tiniest toes wiggle above the surface. I do intend to apologize, I must add. But not to that extent - because, in the beginning, I did have the honestest of intentions. I tried to do something good. It wasn't the idea that sucked, it was my approach.

Third: try to work it out. Try to find a mutual agreement and build something new and beautiful out of everything that went so wonderfully wrong. Here's the catch: it's incredibly hard. I have to not only find a way to apologize and make things better, but also dance down the narrowest line between having a great idea and simple, plain egoism. The problem's that I'm not totally wrong. And I'm not the only one who contributed to the creation of... the Mistake. I can't really recall a time before when I did something so terrible and wasn't the only one to blame. So I have to work out a situation that's completely new to me.

The problem is that it's so easy just to want to forget about it all. Just let go of all the ideas and all the reasons I tried to do it in the first place - the reasons that still stand. It's a lot harder to remember why I wanted it done, and how passionate I was about it all in the beginning.

So I just have to keep reminding myself. And I really, really have to work on my people skills. After all, as my s. o. said, I 'm lucky this kind of Mistake happened so early in my life. Had it happened later, it would have been a lot harder to fix.

Is that what it all comes down to? Learn from your mistakes?

I could only wish life was so simple. (But I guess the fun of having no idea what to do next would be gone, too, if you knew everything will work out itself eventually.)