There are four days left until the 21-day lockdown ends (extended to 40 days after this post). That by itself is cause for celebration, but it doesn’t necessarily mean life will change in any significant way.
I’m certainly not holding my breath as there are plenty of potential next steps being tossed around about what’s the best move forward for the country, with a likely possibility that an announcement will be made by the end of the day.
I don’t know if I will make it to Dharamshala this trip. It is a city far to the north along the edge of the Himalayas and was going to be my fourth and final stop in India. It’s still an option, but if it doesn’t happen, I’m okay with it.
Little of my experience over the last 2 1/2 months has been what I expected.
But it has been what I’ve needed — chaos and all. I’ll save that for another post though.
In the meantime — cows.
I fed a few again today. If I’ve learned anything in the last few weeks, it’s that cows make me happy. I feel a little burst of joy whenever one walks by the window of the hotel’s cafe or I see them heading my way along the dusty road. I hear frequent mooing during the night from outside my hotel room and I can’t help but grin when I do.
The street dogs are friendly, the horses interesting, the monkeys mischievous. But the cows are almost zen. And it is perhaps the calm I feel around them that makes me light up with an inside smile.
They, along with my walks along the banks of the Ganges River, will be what I miss the most about my time in Rishikesh — a time that has been extended much longer than anticipated and may be even more so in the days to come.
I don’t have any grand plans for what will happen on April 15 or after. Acceptance and being present in the moment of the day are two aspects of my experiences over the last 9 months that have most contributed to making this unforeseen period of time what it is — not an interruption, but something, like the cows of Rishikesh and the holy Ganges River, that I will remember for all my days to come.
WRITING REFLECTIONS
I’ve noticed a cycle with myself. When I begin to feel resistance towards something such as a daily practice, going as far as to not do it, there’s a reason. Perhaps boredom. Perhaps secretly feeling my efforts are futile. Or it could be something else entirely.
And instead of spending time trying to decipher the reason before taking action, it’s more important to pay attention to the fact that it’s happening because regardless of the specific cause, it’s leading to the same need.
Change.
In earlier days, I may have simply pushed through with the same old same old, deciding discipline and consistency are more important than enjoyment, but now I find myself quickly recognizing the need to make it feel anew, thereby incorporating all of these elements.
Here’s an example.
I often do a Tabata workout in the mornings. It’s a HIIT type workout of 20 seconds intense exercise followed by 10 seconds rest, back to back for several rounds. It doesn’t take long to get a good workout in and feel the edges of exhaustion. Part of the reason I started doing this was precisely because it’s short and can be done regardless of where I am. I started with a workout 4 minutes in length each morning paired with a longer workout in the evenings.
The idea was that the workout was so short that I couldn’t talk myself out of doing it. I used to do the same with my swims when I had access to a pool. I got in the habit of doing 500m swims in the morning everyday, a workout so quick that my brain couldn’t come up with a valid excuse not to do it.
What this does is creates the habit, one which over time no longer requires a decision to be made. It’s simply something you do, at which point you can start to extend it. I now have Tabata workouts of varying length, some up to 10 minutes at a time, that I still pair with longer evening strength training workouts.
Sounds great, right?
It is until you begin to skip workouts. Perhaps there’s a breaking point where I overextend myself, the workout’s length no longer adhering to the “it’s so short, I have no excuse” cornerstone that worked so well.
I thought for a long time this was just me as it’s a cycle that I tend to encounter with anything I do for an extended period of time. But after talking to others, it seems to be a common occurrence, one where we have pushed too far past the invisible line, tipping the scales in the opposite direction of where we want them to be.
In that case, the solution is a return to basics. Dial it back down, start at the (new) beginning and get back on track. This may mean changing any number of things including time, mechanics, frequency or other elements to make “it” feel fresh while retaining the core essence of employing the “no excuses” motivation.
I suppose this is part of the cycle of evaluation and re-evaluation of what’s working in our lives, requiring us to be honest with what we want and need at a given point. That means we must learn to be okay if what was once most important has shifted to a lower position on our priority list.
Yet sometimes that “thing” we evaluate is more significant than a morning workout. Sometimes it’s foundational and altering it threatens to shake the core of who we are, or rather the *idea* of who we thought we were.
That’s when the hard questions that have been lurking along the edges of our minds begin to surface, asking for equally hard decisions to be made.
Hard decisions that aren’t made in zen moments, nor when all the planets have aligned and the universe has bestowed its rightful blessing for all to be well and good.
No, these decisions are made right smack in the middle of life, wherever we are right then. They don’t care if we feel weak and unsure, doubting ourselves at every turn. They’re impatient and persistent in demanding for a resolution, fully embracing the fact their messy and painful nature often requires sacrifices of things we hold most dear.
All for what? I have asked more times than I can count. Some wistful day-thought of what may never be?
Yes, that is exactly what is offered.
A promise.
A hope.
A dream.
One that is worth every damn thing it asks for and more.
Because if we settle for anything less, it would be but a shadow of a possibility.
And there’s nothing worse than living a life of what could have been.