WEIGHING IN AND MEASURING UP

DAY 56-57

Thanks to the warm weather during January which has meant the consumption of more salads and less carbs, my decision on New Year’s Eve to have a crack at becoming less pear shaped has paid some dividends. I’ve lost half a kilo and 2.5cm off my gut, having power walked on 21 days out of 31, covered 68km, and with another 26 hours of hard slog gardening (not just pulling a weed here and there) I must’ve burned up more than a few calories. Oh well, not a bad start, I’m all for a gradual improvement rather than a swift transformation, as quick fixes usually are short lived.

Our local General Store has a small portable step which the little kids like to use when they come to the counter so they can see over the top, handing over their 5c for a musk stick feeling important that they managed the transaction all on their own. It’s lovely watching them grow and enjoying the milestone in height gain when they eventually can see over the top without it. I stood on it one day and made an interesting discovery. The world looks different when you’re taller, what I normally looked at I now looked down on, and what I normally looked up to I was now looking at. Your attention seems to be attracted to different things when your perspective changes, and probably distracted by them too.

I think I was always the shortest one in the pack, but my motto of Good things come in small packages has stood me well over the years. What I lacked in height I made up for in speed, finding my place in athletics and sport, and the only really negative memory I have about being vertically challenged as my friend Dave dubbed me, goes back to my Year 9 High School class photo. I mean, who in their right mind would stick a 14 year old on the ground in front of the teacher to hold the class sign. Positively rude I thought, discrimination at its worst, just for being the shortest, so in protest I refused to smile, and my best friend sported a pout in supportive commiseration.

We spend so much of our lives working out our identity, shaping it, nurturing it, protecting it, enhancing it, hoping against all hope that we measure up in this competitive world and will be able to hold our own when the crunch comes. What I enjoy about getting older is how unimportant that has become. You become more comfortable in your own skin, have no desire to compare yourself with others and what they have or what they’re doing or what they think you should have or be doing, take less notice of what everyone else expects of you, take each day as it comes, not planning too far ahead so you can be flexible enough to change without any drama.

None of us are perfect, and sure, there’s always room for more self awareness and growth, but there’s something kinda nice about relaxing into who you are, no matter how short, or whatever we think our shortcomings are, and realizing that in the long run, sweating over the small stuff really isn’t that important. In reality, I think there’s much more satisfaction to be had in nurturing others so they can realise their potential and shape their own identities.