How does your garden grow?

As one of my signature files says, I've recently become susceptible to existential nausea, which is brought on by too much awareness of the contingency of life. Which basically means, I've become very tired the last few days thinking about the miles I've gone and the miles I have left to pursue. That doesn't stop me from pursuing my pursuits by any means. Today I had a wicked session at the gym and surprised even myself by how much stronger I've become. But, even this past weekend - on Sunday - I was rattled for moments at a time at how the distance I've come is not always enough to be the warm blanket one needs around them to feel secure and knowing they are on the right path. I lie in bed sometimes, staring out the window or watch the ceiling fan turn and wonder, "Am I doing the right thing? How do I know when I've never done the right thing before?"

I wonder where this all will lead? It's impossible to bail out and return to the old life now because all engines have fired and there's no anchor in the old life left. While it's been so terribly easy for me to blog about the tangible accomplishments, it's the emotional journey inside that I ocassionally will question - have I come far enough? What is my metric? How does one determine the mass and density of lost emotional baggage? After all, what is inside is what will always count. The body guides the internal dialogue without a doubt so the two go hand in hand. But the whole point of exercising and dancing is to bring a peace and balance to my inner self.

I watched Dr Phil today and there was an interesting couple on. This woman had lost 162lbs over the course of three years. It left her with a shocking amount of loose skin that she described as looking and feeling like raw pizza dough. After seeing the photos, I concur with that analogy 100%. Her husband had never seen her nude, she won't let him touch her and has completely withdrawn. The interesting thing is - he met her in that condition. He didn't meet her as the 300+ lb woman, but the 130 pound woman she is today. He himself was very attractive, incredibly fit (body builder body) and from a superficial level, one would never guess in a million years that he'd be the kind of guy to put up with the absence of a physical relationship or a woman so obviously broken down by her secret 'body'.

What was so palpable and completely overshadowed her loose skin issue was the incredible love he had for her. Just as obvious was the blindness she has to that love because her own pain eclipses her ability to see, appreciate and feel that love. I thought to myself, that is the kind of guy every woman dreams of. It's almost out of a cheap romance novel - the handsome, ripped man stumbles across the woman with a tragic flaw and loves her in spite of all her "grotesque" flaws. My thought wasn't "she's so lucky" because I deeply understand the powerful iron gate that blinds you from love when you are unhappy with yourself for whatever reason. This woman is not lucky because her own internal truth is so twisted and she cannot (and I get this) fall in love with her self. But my thought was what a truly wonderful and absolutely rare person he was - and just how utterly impressive (if not completely attractive) it is to witness a man who loves someone that challenges his vanity.

It's something that anyone who is single - or partnered for that matter - needs to reflect on: what is our own truth and conviction? What kind of life can we really hope for when our dealbreakers are skin deep?

Today's quote comes from Elizabeth. Wish I could say I remembered this but was led to it and found it.

You were the most powerful man in England. And you could have been greater still, but you had not the courage to be loyal, only the conviction of your own vanity.

I'm tired and worn out so I apologize if this is incoherent and completely fractured train of thought. I'm off to read my Rwanda book now - a story a night and I can sleep knowing that I have a better version of luck that awaits me every morning.