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One New Age Baby Boomer's Mid-Drift Crisis
Diet Commentary 2005
I feel guilty writing a New Year message that is anything but delightful and cheerfully uplifting. Yet invariably, my allegiance is with my own sense of integrity, a personal intuitive honesty, as flimsy a footing as that often is. I need to feel I am being as honest to the moment as I can be. I may exaggerate, or flirt with metaphor, but my literary learners permit extends only so far. Basically, I have to say as I feel... And I feel as gray as the wintery clouds capping snow laden Hieh-zan outside my frost encrusted double paned window.
In my Diet Commentary for 2004 I wrote "A poor diet is an error of life style with consequences." This past year seemed bent on proving this. 2004 provided me with a dozen fat man symptoms, from gout to shortness of breath, unprecedented weight gain, and more depression than I had imagined possible. It was a good year for illustrating how not to lose weight, how to foolishly challenge God's lease restrictions on this temporal corpus.
Today is my daughter's birthday, and as she climbs through the gnarly jungle of adolescence, and we repeatedly come to emotional blows, I feel only confirmed in my deep rooted self doubt. I have never felt less qualified to be in charge of my own life. Each day as single dad, university teacher, and as foreign male on the streets of Japan, I am asked to be a figure of authority. And every day has wounded moments of angst filled inadequacy, nestled in valleys of despair.
I am not certain why, but I seem to want to blame my wife's suicide, and the tsunami of trauma that followed, for this open wound that seems not to heal. God, luck, and the universe have been good to me as a whole. Knowing this simply brings shame.
As I wake daily with initial energy, soon my thoughts are fractured, I circle into uncertainty, overwhelmed... impotent to empowered choice making... I simply do not know where to begin. I do household chores and wonder why I can not spark a fire to wipe away my 'to do' list.
I had wished for a saviour through out these years since Reiko's death. A vision, a direction, a solution, and eventually a person, to fill the hole in my tattered self image. There were spats of solutions, a love affair, a successful diet, extravagant adventures, and each followed by the hallow awareness that life no longer has a Holy Grail solution.
Love turned to just life, as diets failed and bounced back further into karmic debt, and all the world travels reminded me that everywhere was much like everywhere else... I remain languishing in my lust for a guardian angel... a consummate personal trainer, a nutritionist, and enlightened therapist rolled into one. as a cloaking friend and soulful companion.
But I wonder, if I were given such an omnipotent advisor, if in fact, I would listen, and do what I am told. Because I have a mind, and resources, and yet I refuse to moderate, exercise, and balance... instead I wallow as a wayward child, content to cut off my nose to spite my ageing face.
I wonder if I am in some necessary landing pattern, circling a world of opportunities, just waiting for perfect landing conditions... Or wasting a precious window of opportunity muddled in fear and self doubt. Each day, I waste in depression, depresses me further, self fulfilling donkey's doldrums. Lost, a mid-drift on the equator, without a wind of a notion to give me direction.
Diet Commentary 2004
Diet Commentary 2003
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Robert L. Seltman