Went on a bike ride with my boy tonight. His sisters were at a dance recital with their stepmom, and Ryan was working. I asked Andrew what he wanted to do together, and he said “ride our bikes on a trail through the woods,” so off to the woods we went!
I wish things like this came easy for me, but they don’t. They’re such a struggle in my mind. For one, there’s a voice in my head telling me I’m too out of shape and I might not be able to handle a bike ride at a pace Andrew would want, which would frustrate and disappoint him. Second, I’m still struggling with anxiety, so as soon as I’d start to feel winded, even if it’s at a small level of discomfort, I’d panic that I might work too hard and faint or something. And third, I’m very comfortable on the couch and completely unmotivated to put the seats down in my van, lift the bikes into it, drive all the way to the park, and ride around for awhile. Then take the bikes out at home, put them away, and fix my seats again.
Yes, lazy. And there are two types of people reading this…those who scoff at my laziness, and those who totally get it. To the scoffers…yes! I know it’s lazy. That’s why I did it anyway.
And that’s what I’m writing about tonight. I’m a recovering lazy butt. A chubby one, at that. I have always, always been lazy and I hate it. I don’t even realize it, half the time. My kids don’t realize when they’re doing it. Most people don’t recognize it, I’d argue. We just don’t do work, if we don’t feel like it. (On the extreme level, there are those that won’t even earn a respectable income out of laziness, but I’m not talking about that.)
I once heard the definition of insanity described as “doing the same things over and over again and expecting a different result.” That has been me, for so long. I’ve become so unhappy with who I am, but I keep making the same decisions. I think there’s going to be some miraculous moment when I change, but it hasn’t come yet. ?
There will never be a miraculous moment. There will always be little moments. Little moments, with little decisions. My pastor repeatedly uses the phrase “every day you choose a way.”
Every day, I choose a way. And so far, I’ve been choosing a way I don’t want, and hoping my desire for a different result will influence the path I’m taking. It doesn’t work that way, does it?
So today, I chose a different way. Instead of my girls leaving, and letting my son play video games while I read or watched Gilmore Girls, I asked him if he wanted to do something fun. And I did it. And I’m proud of myself.
That’s all I wanted to say, today. ?