Standing Still

I am one who runs away by throwing myself forward, headlong, burning my bridges to make sure turning back is not an option, jumping without a chute to find out if I can fly. If I can’t, I learn about broken bones. Motion is the key no matter what the cost.

I used to have a print out of a learning curve taped to my desk. It’s a jagged line except for intervals where the line becomes perfectly horizontal. Those are called plateaux. They’re part of every learning process, training process, living process. They are the times when you stand still, neither making progress nor regressing.

I feel like I’m plateau-ing these days. My body mass won’t budge. I’m maintaining my level in training but seeing zero improvement. My life is a statu quo. I am standing still. I am going nowhere, aiming for nothing, just living. It is not peaceful or rewarding. It’s just plain weird.

I am not complaining about it, merely observing it. Standing still is very unusual and uncomfortable for me. Normally, I run away forward. This time I’m not. This time, I’m experiencing stillness, wondering at it but tolerating the discomfort. I’ve no idea what comes next.

This weekend, I bought a bed. I love cats and sleeping, combined if possible. Both cats and sleeping require a decent bed. Mine was old and creaky and overdue. I bought a new one which should be delivered in about two weeks, much to my son’s chagrin since he was quite ready and willing to start jumping on it right away. I’ve finished paying for my car this year, now I can start paying for my bed. I accept donations. I will be poor but imbedded. Short of living in the lap of luxury, I will sleep in it. Guests will be welcome. Just drop me a line.