Pigeon Toilet

I feel a bit better. Knee is still grinding. Still congested, not as bad though.

I need to increase my activity level. Even though I am exhausted. At this point I think it is feeding on itself. The longer I am inactive, the more exhausted I become. So its grit it out and move.

I know that being inactive has a negative effect on my state of mind. Frankly this past week I have been inactive physically and mentally for the most part. I did read an excellent book, 90 Minutes in Heaven: A True Story of Death & Life by Don Piper. But that was devoured in a couple of days. The rest has been thinking about what was in the book and sleeping. It’s been think, a little, eat, and sleep. On auto repeat all week. Truthfully my attitude has been in the dumper as well as my activity level.

The two seem to be tied together. Translated, when I keep myself active, physically, and mentally I am a much happier person. When I am inactive I turn into an exhausted (and not in a good way) depressed angry troll. On the really bad days I can seriously look like one too. Hair sticking out all over the place, snarl on my face, gray complexion, sweaters on my teeth, and total dragon breath, roaring when anyone tries to get near me. Or farther down the line, turning to stone, as in unresponsive lump of rock.

Ok so here we are at the crossroads. Choose, happy healthy successful human, or pissed off lump of depressed rock. Basically, it’s happy or pigeon toilet. Hmm…

Sounds like a simple choice doesn’t it? It is and it isn’t.

Fear can be a huge motivator to stay as a pigeon toilet. With all the crap consequences.

Here’s the thing. When you are in full pigeon toilet mode. You always have the option of doing something. “You Could Be” “You Could Do” and your mind runs off with all the possibilities bright and shiny for the moment. And you think I can be this or that and sink off into the oblivion of sleep, or just staring off into nothingness totally on idle.

The trap is, the longer you are a pigeon toilet. As in a rock that doesn’t move, the harder it becomes for you to move. The less you actually can move, so bit by bit you actually do become immobile. Either, too weak, too sick, too fat, too depressed to move. Then the rock you have become becomes the boxed decaying mass under another rock in a garden of rocks remembering what was or what could have been. I do believe that garden of rocks is called a grave yard.

By that time your what if’s are gone, your could have beens are no longer, your possibilities and potential wasted as a pigeon toilet. On the bright side pigeons always need a place to poop.

Time to brush off the residue and get moving…

Life is a journey, keep moving
Mary E. Robbins & the Hairballs
Robbins Run Ranch: Living the Dream With Our Pomeranians
Independent Beachbody Coach: Helping to transform Pigeon toilets into rolling stones.