September 15th, 2018 10th Anniversary
Yesterday: I maintained the integrity of my maintenance calorie budget, I remained refined sugar-free, I met my daily water goal, and I stayed well connected with exceptional support.
Today is a special day for me. It was ten years ago today, at 505 pounds, when I sat down to write my Day 1 post. The final sentences of that first post highlighted the goal of this project:
"I look forward to this blog. I believe it will help me stay on track and maybe along the way it will inspire someone else to stay on track." After ten years, I believe it has and continues to support this goal.
I'm full of gratitude, grateful for the detours along the way--I'm very grateful for the lessons and experiences I had to live in order to learn. What was and remains critical in order to understand the process, dynamics, and deeper things, is an open mind, a humble heart, and a deep respect for the fragile nature of it all. I don't
"got this."
There are some things in my life where I can say,
"I got this," I mean, hand me a microphone, show me a studio or a stage, and trust,
"I got this," but this continued recovery is NOT one of the things
"I got."
All I have is what I choose to do today. By the grace of God, I embrace an imperfect daily practice that helps keep me well.
Can it be better? Oh my, yes, without a doubt. Better than better, in my opinion, is the pursuit remaining consistent. If I remain consistently calm, humble, and open to learning new things along the way, I have the best chance for another day. Another ten years? Who knows? That will depend on my willingness. Today, I'm willing. And that's all we have, right?
I was driving back from my location broadcast at the county fair the other night, especially paying attention to my speed--making sure I wasn't going too fast. I was going too fast two nights before when a trooper flashed his blue and red at me as an unspoken/unwritten warning to slow down. This warning kept me at a safe speed Thursday evening on my return trip. It likely saved my life, you see...
As I approached a hill on the highway, a pickup truck--like a blur, topped the hill in my lane. This reckless driver was passing on a hill in an obvious no-passing zone. The driver was essentially playing with his life and the lives of others. I didn't have time to react. We barely escaped the head-on collision by a fraction of a second. Had I not been flashed by that trooper on Tuesday evening, I might have been traveling an extra 5 mph, and likely, it would have been a very different consequence.
My heart was racing and I was immediately out of breath as I slowed to well below the speed limit as if I couldn't process what had just happened unless I slowed down. If I hadn't been scheduled to make opening announcements for a special arts and humanities concert fifteen minutes later, I would have pulled over completely. My first thought was,
what if? What if I would have been traveling just a touch faster?? Who would the trooper contact first? What impact would it have made on the people I love and the ones that love me? I was shaken, stirred into a swirling of thoughts the likes of which I hadn't given the time of day for a very long time.
Was this God getting my attention? Mysterious ways, right?
Was this it? Was it all over? And if so,
could I be proud of what I left behind? In those thoughts, I also thought about
all of the dreams and goals that almost died right along with me on that busy stretch of Oklahoma two-lane highway.
All we have is today. Yesterday is gone and tomorrow isn't guaranteed. We know this to be true. Today's practice is all I got. Sometimes we pick up yesterday like it's a club used to beat ourselves--and that focus takes us out of today, and that fact dramatically decreases our chance for a better tomorrow. Still...
I believe in hope for the future, I believe in dreams coming true, I believe in obstacles as big as boulders in front of long-time goals, being crushed into dust and blown away with the winds of change.
That near-collision the other night and this ten year blog anniversary today have got me thinking about important things.
What do I want to do? What goals do I want to accomplish? How can I move forward in positive ways while keeping an embrace on the ever-evolving daily practice that helps keep me well? These are important questions.
You know, I was wondering how I could put together today's blog post--and I thought about a million pictures from over the years, but nah-- those dramatic
"before and now" pictures don't tell the complete story. Besides, those pictures are all throughout the archives of this ten-year-old blog. Reducing the last ten years to a simple
"before and now" shot would only serve to cheapen the deeper experience because...
The physical transformation is great but it isn't the best and it doesn't "fix" everything. The biggest transformations along this road are harder to see--
they run deeper. The evidence of their existence is found in the daily actions/practice we choose to make important.
As I stepped onto the platform of that thrill ride last night, some old thoughts started playing in my brain. The seats are small. Would I fit? In many ways, my brain still registers a much larger person. But that's okay because my brain knows that in many ways, I'm still the same Sean I was ten years ago today, at 505 pounds, so I can see how it might get confused.
The click. Hearing the harness click in place and sitting in that small contoured seat quite comfortably was a nice reminder of how far I've come over the years but also of the diligence I must practice each day to keep me well.
I thank God for his grace and guidance even when my ego and pride try to get in the way and take credit. Because trust me, my friend, it isn't
"all me."
Thank you for your incredible support over the years. None of us do it alone. I'm not alone and you're not alone.
Those Day 1 words mean a lot to me,
"...and maybe along the way it will inspire someone...," I hope this blog in some way, at some point, has inspired you.
You have inspired me.
With sincere gratitude and a humble heart and mind,
Thank you,
Sean