What I 'deserve' - stream of consciousness ranting

The blink of the liquid crystal display carried suspense.  The morning weigh-in.  Dreaded among judgments, assessments, as the complete measure of success or failure.  Second only to the relative snugness of zipped and buttoned Dockers around my waist, morning rites at the "scale of worthiness" dictate moods and force actions.

I stretch and I work my body and fight with my mind against impulses perhaps innate.  I do not crave food - my cravings for food spring from desires to remain alive; no longer are my cravings driven by selfish and ultimately damaging desires for comfort or pleasing tastes.

The final assessment of my transformation rests not in the eyes of myself, but in how I perceive other people's eyes react to me.

My mailbox contains well-wishes and support and guidance.  I am told I deserve 'this' - by 'this' I mean the end result of my work towards fitness.  I respectfully disagree.  My journey to fitness is not a blessed adventure of goodness and light.  The conclusion - the outcome of the work ....the outcome of

Following the footsteps of this direction.  Aiming towards the North Star - finding my way unshackled by the bonds of instant oral fixation/satisfaction.  Deciding to stop being a lazy shit and get off the sofa.  The tears and pain of breaking free from my addiction named 'its just easier to lay here on the couch'.  Those things are not happiness.  If they were, happiness would suck a fat one.   If happiness is feeling the agony of defeat and the impossibility of my quest, happiness is a bitch.

Nothing I do to my body or with my body creates happiness or excitement or joy in my life.  No amount of  muscles or strength or endurance ads one iota to my worth as a man.  As a human.  None of that brings to me - or springs forth from me significant contributions to mankind. I might die as the most physically-fit human in the history of humans.  Doesn't.  Fracking.  Matter.

My measure is not my weight upon the planet - not my weight upon this plastic and silicone and glass machine on my bathroom floor.  The measure of my weight lays not upon whatever I think I deserve in life.  The measure of my impact, long after my footprints have faded from this planet - the measure of..."Did I matter"....will rest solely upon and within the hearts of those I touch softly and love strongly.



Random Photo: Me, 1998, Su-san Ri, South Korea.