This morning I was talking with my partner after breakfast, about what kind of changes we wanted to make moving forward.
It was interesting to me because I really wanted to focus on making more quality time for myself, of stepping away from being busy, and to create space (both physical and mental) in order to do that. But his perception of me was that I wasn't that busy, really.
I kept that in mind when I came home, and immediately began tidying up my house, which my roommates had left all cluttered. It can't be attributed to the holidays, either, it's simply the fact that every horizontal surface gets something set on it, and nothing ever seems to make it to where it actually belongs.
I had come home, but my time wasn't my own. I had to spend it tidying. You could certainly argue that nobody was making me tidy, but also, the fact is that I couldn't do anything else. I can't sit at a table when there is no table to be had. I can't roll out a yoga mat when there is clutter on the floor. I can't begin my own project when abandoned projects are cluttering up a space I had made for myself. Am I to just hide in my room, unless I want to watch television? Intolerable.
That is not my time. That is taking my time from me.
Time is very precious to me. Quality time spent with my partner is the number one thing I want. Time uninterrupted where I may work on my own projects is my ultimate dream. Time to rest is precious.
Things I do not have time for: Drama, conversations in which I am not a participant, traffic jams, fallacies. Other people's neglect.
We talked, my partner and I, about pushing boundaries with each other. About exploring outside out comfort zones, because we have become very comfortable with each other, and that gives a safe place from which to push ourselves forward.
These things take time.
I pushed myself forward today, after some tidying and a chat with my roommate, I pushed myself out the door to go for a run. I realized recently that running was the key component that was missing from my life. I began running when I was 29, 5 years ago. I turned 5k races into 50 mile trail runs. I pushed a hobby to a point where it was taking up too much of my time, and in the last 2 years, I ran less and less.
But running is the linchpin that connects several parts of my journey. I have been working out with an online trainer, but I never feel the same feeling that I do at the end of a run. Running is silent, solo, and personal. I enjoy time with the trainer, but there is music, encouraging chat, and other people watching and working along. I enjoy this, but running alone is a crucial counter-balance. Additionally, it gives extra cardio. And sometimes you get to see squirrels.
As HIIT is the cross-training to my running, running is the warm-up to my yoga. I am a terrible yoga practitioner. I am inflexible, I am unbalanced, I am not really mentally into it or excited about stepping on to the mat. However, I know that yoga is good for me, good for my goals of flexibility and posture, good for practicing being present and focused on a new skill. And running warms my body up for that, makes me less likely to shy away from it.
These things take time. It's often discouraging to me to look at a yoga video on YouTube, and note the time. 32 minutes? That sounds so long! Think of all the pointless scrolling on Instagram that I could do. Think how many pages I could read. How many nachos I could eat. 32 minutes, I am expected to watch this video for that long and follow along and not be distracted?
I used to run for hours. Literally hours. As training. I'd wake up before the sun, and go out, and when the sun began to rise I'd head home so I wouldn't get burned. I am slow.
Running reminds me that it takes time. Time spent running never feels as long as it is. I need to remind myself that change takes time. Time must be made for these things.
I might look even busier now that I've added yoga and running back into my life. I think about it as time spent. I will spend time, 24 hours ever day, just like anyone else. Forcing myself to be productive, to tidy and clean, to work hard, is a way that I convince myself that I'm not useless. I feel useless often, because I don't take the time to practice new skills, to create, to really sit and focus inward, to cultivate something new and creative and honest. But, I tell myself, I had to do the laundry. I had to visit my family. I had to go to work and get the car taken care of and work on the house. I had to spend time with my housemates and my partner. I had to make sure that everything else outside of me was taken care of.
These are excuses for not using my time for myself.
Running sucks up time. It makes me tired. But it also makes me happy. It makes me exhausted with a glow, with a high of accomplishment. It makes my muscles warm. It's something I do purely for myself.
January 1: I ran, I did hands-free yoga flow. I folded my laundry and cleaned away some shirts I no longer want. I collected a sample for a Covid antibody test. I took my medicine.
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