Sometimes, when people ask me what I believe I tell them, “Everything. I believe in everything.”
And then they ask if I believe in ghosts or the Loch Ness monster or aliens. “Yes,” I always say. “Yes, I do.” This is an especially fun conversation with a youngster; they can get quite creative and are tickled at trying to stump my consistent Yes.
If anyone were to ask me if I believe, say, that God is male or that climate change is a hoax or that every vaccine is safe or the earth is flat I’d have to answer truthfully, “No. I don’t believe those things.” However, some people believe them, and I see that they are sincere in their beliefs.
I have no grand point here, other than to point out that we are fickle creatures, as malleable as the clay we walk upon. It may seem that some people grow more rigid as time passes, but that too is change.
(Do I believe in the passage of time? Yes, I suppose I do. Though not in the two-dimensional timeline sort of way my mind wants to picture.)
We can’t help but grow and change with time, but we can certainly struggle with the pace of it all. That is my current dis-ease, and it’s where my thoughts are today. I am bucking against my own slowness to change. A part of me desires big change because that part sees the other parts as unfit to lead the life I want.
I want more consistent, healthier habits (like daily meditation, writing, yoga, walking, breathwork, better hydration, practicing guitar and piano, creating jewelry and other crafts, and more). Those habits, I believe, would lead to feeling better physically and mentally, which would give me more energy and motivation to maintain those habits, as well as keep a cleaner house, be more patient with my 6 year-old, put away the laundry, get out and about socially, and so forth.
I also have body fat that bothers me both because it’s uncomfortable and because I would like to look and feel more trim and fit. I want to be able to move quickly without feeling loose and floppy. I want to be able to pick up my infant without my back muscles twinging. Exercise is one of my inconsistent habits though I know it’s critical that I build muscle to feel better and to keep up with my growing baby as he starts to move more. Will I ever have the energy to exercise, or do I need to force it, prime the pump, so to speak? Here, I don’t know what I believe.
Recently I adopted a very low-carb way of eating, and that has helped immensely with my aching hip joints, but it hasn’t helped me lose any body fat. I am breastfeeding and found that if I went down to zero carbs, my milk supply tanked. When I add carbs back in, my cravings get out of control and it’s hard to stick to healthy choices. Do I believe there is a right way of eating for each individual? Yes, I do, though I don’t know mine at the moment and that is frustrating.
I believe I can make all of these changes, but I may be trying to bite off more than I can chew. I keep reminding myself that if I can quit drinking (which I did 3-years ago), I can do anything. It’s encouraging, but also a lot of pressure. I want to believe that the right formula will present itself, but right now I’m down in the dumps about it. One of my dearest friends tells me to be gentle, to give myself some grace. “You just had a baby,” she says. Though that is getting further away every day.
It’s much more than a physical thing. If I’m not patient with myself, how will I ever be patient with my children? If I can believe in ghosts and monsters and aliens, why do I find it hard to believe I can make the necessary changes to simply feel better day to day.
I don’t know the answers, so I better go pick up my son who is babbling in his crib after his nap. And I better change the laundry over before the mildew smell takes hold. And I better clean the kitchen and then ready us to go help work on cabin prep at the resort, which opens this weekend. After that, Iris will be done with school and the list keeps going and going and going.
I believe I’ll feel better if I just get moving.