Musings of a Middle-Aged Introvert

Exercise. The word that so many people love to hate. And I will, shamefully, include myself among them. It's always (well, for the last couple decades) satisfied me to say to myself "I'll exercise another day." when faced with the realization that I should exercise. Why do we hate to exercise? I have hear many excuses, such as 'I hate to sweat', 'I hate being too hot', 'I hate getting sore muscles', 'I hate getting out of bed in the dark'. The list goes on. And frankly, I have used all of these and more as excuses not to exercise. But, as you may have read in my previous posts, I have been trying to 'turn over a new leaf', as they say. Become a better person. A big step towards that goal is exercise. So, I am exercising again. I am starting slowly and hopefully I will soon work my way back to running. I used to run in high school. It didn't last long, because for one reason or another (which I will not divulge in t

I sit in front of my laptop with the lights off. It's evening and the sun has already set, so the only light is coming from the blank whit word document displayed on my screen. I struggle to come up with a good opening paragraph for my story. It has to be great. It has to grab the reader's attention and pique their interest. I type a few words, pause, and then backspace over them. I try again. That sounds pretty good. I'll go with that. I begin the next paragraph. And the next. Soon, the story begins to take on it's own life in my head. It is now generating itself as fast as I type. So I just keep typing. Before I know it, I've written several pages of what looks like to be a promising short story. But I get up too early to stay up too late, and it's late. I click save and close the laptop, and I am immediately engulfed in darkness. So it goes when I am writing. I just wish I could get myself to make more time to do it. Life (and a bit of laziness) seems t

I was listening to one of my favorite podcasts the other day, "This American Life." If you've never heard of it, it's a weekly show and the stories are all based in audio recordings and interviews. It takes you on an audible journey, and at times it almost seems like you're in the story. The interviews for this particular story were conducted in 2002 and were about a very unique theatre program at the Missouri Eastern Correctional Center called "Prison Performing Arts". Surprisingly, the program is still operational today. It introduces violent criminals to acting and theatre as a form of rehabilitation. The play that the prisoners were rehearsing at the time of these interviews was Shakespeare's Hamlet. Now I won't get in-depth about this podcast, but I found it very, very intriguing. If you want to listen to it, it's Episode #218 of This American Life, entitled "Act V". Anyway, as I was listening to the interviews with the inm

New beginnings require new habits, right? That's what I think. To aid me in my quest for a 'new beginning', I have taken a step toward self-healing through meditation. A very good friend of mine owns a yoga studio here in town, and a few months back, they offered a beginner-level class that introduced all different forms of meditation. Of course, I knew the benefits of meditation - decreased stress, improved focus, increased happiness. I'd even heard that it can slow aging; wouldn't that be nice? I'd been trying meditation on my own off and on for years, but I could never get it to work well for myself. So I paid my admission fee and went to the class. Now, I've been to this studio before. I took an introductory yoga class there. Yes, yoga. I'm really not sure why. I guess I was kind of grasping at straws trying to find something that could motivate me to get in shape. What I found out was that it really helps to already be in shape when you do