I’ve been journaling twice a day for three weeks now. That’s coincided with a morning routine of no internetting, my new day vibes playlist, chores, and meditation.
The journaling is usually not spectacular. Most days, it’s a diary of how I’m feeling, what earworm was in my ears, and what I plan to do with the day. I recount the day in the evenings, including minutiae like what I consumed, whether food or entertainment.
Some days, though, it’s been about deep reflection, An opportunity to reconsider my actions or an interaction. It gives me a chance to release a rumination into words or process something stuck in my craw.
It’s been worth the time.
And, I’m grateful.
Also, my morning routine doesn’t have any symbolic value but the daily repetition of tasks and the increasing importance I’m giving to them seems to be providing similar benefits as rituals.
People typically lower their risks of heart disease and premature death far more by gaining fitness than by dropping weight. – Gretchen Reynolds in The New York Times
I weigh 235 lbs. In my adult life, I have almost always weighed about 235 lbs. There was a time a little over a decade ago when I was uncomfortably in the 240s. During the first few months of the pandemic, I dropped down to the low 220s. But, regardless of changes to my diet or physical activity, my body tends to settle here. Sometimes there’s more muscle or fat or water in the mix, but this is me.
I don’t feel unhealthy at this weight. I don’t feel unattractive at this weight. I like myself at this weight.
I work out daily. I don’t have nagging or chronic pains. I like the way I look in my clothes (and when I don’t, it’s usually a challenge with a clothing item rather than some imperfection I find in myself).
I like me and this body.
I haven’t always felt this way. I don’t always feel this way now.
But, far more often than not, I look in the mirror and like what I see. I’m stepping on the scale without judgment. It’s just data.
And 235 seems like what’s normal for me.