When you are young you mostly think about the moments ahead of you. You never imagine that you are near the end. You buy a box of animal crackers. After eating the first one, it seems like there are many more. You haven't made a “dent.” But soon, there are few left. And then there are none.
You look at yourself in the mirror and you think, “I don’t need to look like this.” Or you get tired of waking up and having trouble getting out of bed. So you exercise.
I’ve tried a few things. Yoga, pilates, qigong, working in a gym with a trainer (actually two). Walking. Swimming. Meditation. I guess meditation is an exercise, of sorts.
But there are other exercises. Attempting to eat 26 weight watcher points a day. Another challenge.
Attempting to post on three blogs and Instagram a day.
Attempting to do 365 (minus a few) drawings from the Torah.
Attempting to know my grandkids, maintain relationships with wife, children and assorted relatives and friends.
These are all exercises. Practice, as they call it in Zen.
I retract my first sentence. I’m an exercise fanatic.
I wonder what my life would be like if I did nothing.
I had imagined a much easier retirement. I’d get up in the morning and wonder, “what shall I do now, what shall I ever do.” (from the Wasteland by T.S. Eliot)
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