Metro. Madness?

Metro this morning was a mess. Yesterday, the cars were sliced open like tin cans, leading to now fear-induced sardines packing in today. Bodies and darkness immensely surrounded me when the train paused between two stops. Amidst barks from the conductor to, "Stand clear of the closing doors, please," bodies huddled as close to, "the center of the car," as possible. The absence of space triggered claustrophobia, and a customer fainted at the distress of it all. Three water bottles were thrust her way, and yelps for use of the emergency button were proclaimed.



Within the two hours it took me to navigate through an unfamiliar route and arrive at my destination, I realized I wasn't upset, angry or worried. I realized that it was because I knew I had no control over the "situation" as the Metro managers/announcers so timidly titled the fatal crash. Also, I was calm because I knew my tardiness would be excused. After all, half of all the other government workers were struggling through the chaos with me. We'd be late today.



So why then... should I ever get upset or angry about anything? Whether it be out of or "in" my control? Really, nothing is ever "in my control." It was up to the Metro employees to delineate alternate routes and to solve the problem, not me. All I could do was follow their instructions and hope for the best. I will never posses the ability to neatly tie up life's loose ends; it's up to the man doing it all...

Surely this is a reason to forget temper tantrums.



However, this perspective does not allow me to lie on the couch and send my positive energy into the universe and hope for favorable returns. It does not allow me to resign all drive to be successful, optimistic, involved, and self-actualized. It doesn't give me permission to disassociate myself from my surroundings, and therefore allow the unwanted consequential events to pervade as a result of that disparity. It does not endow me with the right to disconnect from the words exiting my mouth, and the actions defining my character.



I can simply accept events that I didn't plan for. I can stay happy, but only after keeping a promise: that I've done everything I can to justly represent the family name, within my assigned realm of responsibility. I must constantly remind myself of that. I'm no better than anybody else. Meaning, I could easily be in their place.



Which is why I realize it is not my "place" to administer harsh chastisement. It's not even my place to think condemning of another. I shouldn't have to supervise my words, if my thoughts are in the right place. If I don't think something, then there's no worry I'll unintentionally slip and say it. But, when I am inspired to mention something constructive, it is my duty to speak my peace and then hold my peace. To be a witness and an experience-sharer. I want to do, what I hope and expect others to do for me. Express concern, perhaps an alternate route, and to then go on with being merry. No need for hostility. No need for the urge to bitch slap. Because that urge should be abruptly curtailed, before the thought becomes a word.

"There's no difference between venting, and complaining." Dr. Robert Harris.

So if A=B, and B=C, then your thoughts = your destiny.

***

On another note... I am completely excited/inspired about my health kick and exercise spree. I am liking the idea more and more of becoming the "got it together" version of me. This version includes the ability to meet deadlines, not procrastinate, exercise regularly, eat healthily, make my own money, make educated financial decisions, not have dumb anger eruptions, be on time, not cut corners, keep in contact with more people, and read more books. I mean, I know these things aren't on the life or death importance level, but I'm trying to do what I know I should do.

So, when I run my 3 miles in 30 (or hopefully less) minutes and do my 200 crunches, I'm proud. Yes because it's bikini season. Sure. But also because it's simply healthy. And I'm representing all that I want to portray.

***

I cut up pictures of in shape women jogging in their cute bikinis on the beach to hang on my

bedroom wall, as inspiration. (lol. Not a lesbian. Swear.)