I’m on the last day of my “weekend without goals”. I woke up this morning and my stomach felt bloated. I’m forcing myself not to care. The goal was to exercise yesterday and this morning too. I didn’t. I should have been responsible with the money I’ve blown the past two days. Oh well.
I’m on a much-needed getaway. Forcing myself to have a “no goals” weekend. And I’m so not good at it.
The pursuit of success isn’t a recovery problem. Everybody is after it’s elusive feeling. Even when we meet the goals we set for ourselves we immediately set new ones. The grind is relentless. The pressure we place on ourselves is overwhelming. And when we can’t handle the pressure we get depressed.
That’s why I was determined to not give a damn about my bloated stomach this morning. I’ve been starving myself on a 1600 calorie diet, limiting my carbs to under 120 grams a day and desperately trying to shrink the tire around my waist.
When I decided to eat at the local favorite Carmelita’s last night, I said to hell with it and enjoyed a great plate of Mexican food. This morning I’m feeling fat. Okay, more fat.
Shortly after my mind reluctantly accepted that I wasn’t going to brood about this indulgence, it immediately raced to all the things I haven’t accomplished this weekend: I could have cleaned the house, done laundry, started my book report, visited my grandmother, taken Max to dog beach, worked on my podcast…
Instead I drove 50 minutes out-of-town to Laguna Beach.
The short list includes, two wonderful continental breakfasts, a couples massage, hot-tub soak, a lazy walk through town and an indulgent evening feast.
But it hasn’t been easy.
My mind wants to do more. Like it’s not enough to just enjoy life. And I’m left to wonder when the fuck that happened.
To put in goal terms:
- I need to relax more.
- I need to spend more time doing what I love.
- I need to worry less.
It’s so hilariously sad.
I’ll add that to the list.
As for today, I’m cutting myself a little easy. No matter how hard I try I can’t make up for the time I gave away. It’s gone. The best I can do is appreciate the time I have now. It’s sounds trite, but it’s true. All I have is this moment. I can spend it obsessing or I can spend it enjoying.
This life, this one short life. In a universal blink, it’s gone. Better enjoy it.