I’ve been in a forced-still state going on 4 weeks. Nothing serious. Just the result of being a certain age and having a certain something removed. My major adventures have been washing my hair and looking out windows a la Jimmy Stewart. I don’t do Still well.
I am a type A control freak with vacillating ADHD. I exercise every morning as if training for active duty or at the very least a marathon – I’ve done 15.
I come from a long line of DO-ers. I recall sitting on the edge of my mom’s bed, eating a frosted pop tart (ironic), while she did her calisthenics. “Barclay, you have to get out of breath once a day,” she’d say. Peggy was ahead of her time — though never without pearls and pumps (I dare you to try jumping jacks in heels.) She didn’t have Jane Fonda to guide her – only a well-worn copy of the Royal Canadian Exercise Plans for Physical Fitness whose target audience was clearly male.
My dad, Champe, jogged and tennis-ed his way into his mid-90s, fighting the inevitable shrinking of life with religious zeal. When walking became problematic, he shuffled the driveway with a bike helmet and a walker. He took up tennis in his 50s and in his 80s was still working on his topspin.
So how have I been coping? First, I am grateful. My friend Mary is in the battle of her life with cancer nodules lingering in her lungs. Any of us can wake up to discover a lump, a something, that wasn’t there the day before. (And you thought this blog would be uplifting.)
So yes, I am thankful.
And oh so productive.
Thanks to YouTube, I learned how to make beach-y waves in my hair. And I finally subscribed to the digital NY Times where amid news and op-eds, I discovered that face exercises can make you look 3 years younger. There’s scientific proof. Game changer. So I’ve been quite busy making fish faces and craning my neck to “kiss” the ceiling. 3 years is 3 years.
But I’ve also taken to praying out loud. Talking with God about pretty much everything. It may sound disrespectful or trite — but I’m enjoying hanging out with God. I’ve been using this ReadScripture app with hand-drawn videos that make the complex understandable.
So Amazon is probably wondering why they haven’t heard from me today, being that it’s 9AM. And Facebook — with its too cute babies, and women with easy beach-y hair, and Suzanne Somers luring me to her ageless beauty systems — needs to be reeled in. (QVC has to be shunned — that could be the downfall of our bank account.)
But being still and working on ones inner life isn’t so bad. Or scary. Granted, I know it’s not forever and I’m not in egregious pain. I’ve just been given a taste, a preview.
I’ve been able to sit in God’s presence, His shelter, and know that He is God. Psalm 46:10. He really is.
Working on topspin can’t compete.