Moving One Muscle at a Time ~ 167
One typical day in my teenage years, I found myself lazily lying in bed, perhaps on a Saturday afternoon. Although I had a plethora of activities, friends, and work for school, certain days left me almost paralyzed in a lack of momentum. On this particular day, I remember very strongly deciding that if I could just convince myself to move even a muscle in my index finger, I could also insist upon continuing with the same energy through each of my muscles until I would get out of bed, stand, and begin a productive day (or at least one with some kind of purpose).
Last winter, I anticipated my tendency to want to hibernate and started this blog. I forced myself out of bed and out of my apartment on a daily basis. I took major steps in improving the quality of my life. Somewhere along the way this winter, I have fallen back into my old hermit-like habits. Perhaps my skills in social media and in socializing in general allow me to hide under a guise of business while I sit in my warm apartment watching reruns and finding little projects to engage me for hours online, not moving from my spot on the futon.
I haven’t fooled myself, and I doubt this comes as a complete surprise to any of my regular readers who may have noticed the disappearance of regular updates on Skydiving for Pearls. Most of my site traffic these days comes from people wanting to hear more about my experience with Sarah Small‘s Tableau Vivant. Although I have a post about Monday’s most recent performance mostly written and waiting to come to life, I have neglected many things, including my joy in writing and my impetus for leaving my apartment and truly living each day.
Slightly less than a month ago, while sick, my fellow singing and blogging friends Maren Montalbano, Amy Armstrong, and I formed a pact to audition or apply for auditions at least five times per month. Neglected. Groupons and other discounted classes I’ve purchased, including a samurai sword class, two more classes with StripXpertease, an online voice-over class (which I just attempted to claim via email more than a week past its expiration), a cupcake class at Butter Lane, Jazzercise classes, a high fall stunt class, introductory pole-dancing exercise classes, and a stand-up comedy intensive workshop? Almost entirely neglected (I do have one scuba class scheduled for February). For anyone wondering, I couldn’t have afforded all of those things without some serious discounts via sites like Groupon, Living Social, and TheDealist. Still, purchased over the course of almost a year, I also can’t afford to let them expire while I sit on my couch like a tired American stereotype.
Yes, I need to start caring again about sleep, eating, exercising, keeping a clean apartment, doing my taxes, filing, practicing, living, and making a living. One way or another, seasonally-induced or not, I know we call this depression. As much as I know a trip to Florida to infuse me with sunshine and grand-parental love would help for a little while, I have to begin closer to home. So tonight, I begin again as I did one year, ten days, and according to WordPress an official count of 167 posts ago, moving one muscle, keystroke, and (believe it or not) earlier bedtime at a time.
Today I learned that the smallest moves take the most energy – and moved anyway.
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