Unlearning at 40
I am 40, living at the edge of hormonal imbalance (my diagnosis), trying to melt away a loath of cellulite depositing on my waistline, malnourished mentally as I have not had my choice of food in last three months; still, my weighing scale displays the same figure.
Doctors said Hormones are the culprit as my body weighs heavier before my menstrual cycle and lighter afterward. The weighing scale gets stuck between initial and final weight, so do I; Puzzled?
Swinging between Cell theory and hormonal hindrance, I was seeking happiness and zest to live life passionately. But. This was turning into a marathon run task. I felt terrible about not fitting into my old pair of denim trousers. The occasional sprouting of pimples, unknown fear of being caught up in any health issues(Maybe fibroids)that might hamper my lifestyle.
Yeah, I am an expert at self wrecking.
Last month after holidaying for a week, I got back to my routine coupled with 40 minutes of brisk walk and a healthy food chart. As I began to walk a few miles, choosing the right food items to be stored, taking my thyroid medicine early in the morning, I assumed it would do wonders!
No, it was comforting me initially but after a week I got back to overthinking. I needed a gusto plan to keep my thoughts and negative self-talk under check. Before I could contemplate the possibilities of gearing up with my 40+life; I had to chalk out what went wrong in the past.
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I learned-
- I was not trumpeting and caroling the melodies of accomplishments; indeed I was tiptoeing on my to-do list of life, exhausted, completing the assignments assigned by kids and school; of course, I am a mum. Worrying, wondering and whining over the personal, professional and hormonal imbalance 24x7.
- I was tired of telling myself, what’s productive and creative is not the gateway to peace. It exhausts. I genuinely denied the gospel of living life effortlessly, not accepting the unpredictability, nature offers in abundance with consequences.
- I indulged myself in a problem-solving session with my teenage kid to the extent that it consumed a significant chunk of my peace for the entire day. And. I know It’s not prolific. After a rhubarb, she gets back to her routine, but I embark on a solo trip of why? What if?? How could she? With many question tags. An authoritarian is an administrator; not a parent. I learned it the hard way.
- I was reading to the extent that I had started to avoid, weekend outings and meeting family-friends in general. I wondered! would I be awarded a doctorate for reading maximum articles on Parenting and single Parenting as I always found it intricately challenging. Definitely, not every story resonated with my thought, but it was again feeding my quest.
I was becoming a compulsive learner. Figuratively I had to map out my action plan to live: not just to breathe. Bottling up disappointments, queuing setbacks, exorbitantly co-relating botherations was making me sick. Somedays I pondered on not accomplishing certain goals in my life while other days were spent in holding myself accountable for following an ineffective action plan in life. *************************************************************** What am I doing now?
Now. I breathe and let things happen at their pace without letting the fun quotient evaporate in the steam of worry. I enjoy my meals, my walk, watching TV, counting stars and reading.
Circumventing negative self-talk, I choose to keep myself engaged in recreational activities. I often visit a park, speak with old folks, kids and make sure I walk past some busiest streets.
No aloofness. I know, I am an expert at self-wrecking.(A reminder)
I am creating healthy boundaries to keep myself guarded. Learning, self-sabotaging will further complicate life, and no one would rescue me; if I continue to neglect my peace and priorities.
Children would soon be on their own journey, choosing their professional and personal pathway, and I would undoubtedly need trillion and zillions of positivity and mental strength to stand beside them on diverse paths.
But. Now. It’s my journey. My turn to turn pages and write a ravishing poetic verse. Hilarity. Gratitude. And literature retains my life hale and hearty; not the pursuit of excellence.
What’s your story? I would love to hear about your share of learning. ******************************************************
Shweta
Email:2608shweta@gmail.com.
