Feeling Light

I’ve become somewhat of an infomercial junkie. This will come as a surprise to anyone who knows me because I’ve gone so far as to get rid of my television programming entirely for the summer. But I can’t help myself. I will flip through the channels, watching one weight-loss slash get-in-the-best-shape-of-your-life infomercial after another. I’m especially fascinated by the testimonials where people talk about how much the program has changed their lives. This will also be somewhat of a shock for those who know me because, while the pounds have crept up slowly since I was a teen, I don’t really want to lose weight (okay, ten pounds maybe, if I’m being completely honest). Because in the new western world of diabetes and XXXL t-shirts, I still bear the gold standard of being small—I can wear a dress belted at the waist. And, last I heard, losing weight requires diet and exercise.


So why am I drawn into these infomercials? I had been obsessively thinking about this as my car idled in the drive-thru lane while I waited for my milkshake and I still couldn’t come up with a reason. Then we took our first summer trip to the lake. During the trip, my children begged me to join in on their fun. We jumped off smallish cliffs and I even subjected myself to being pulled behind a speeding boat while clinging to an inflatable tube. But the difference between them and me is that they didn’t hurt their wrists while cliff diving or wake up the next morning unable to lift their arms above their heads thanks to sore muscles. That’s when I realized what I’d been missing in my life that sent me to my remote control and the endless parade of transform-your-body mini-movies that awaited me there. I missed feeling in control.

When I was a young-adult and had no one’s needs to worry about except for my own, I unconsciously structured my life so that I received sufficient rest, exercise, mental stimulation, and time with friends so that my life was balanced. And as a result I felt--light. If we wanted to learn to surf, we would throw on a swimsuit and spend the day having waves pound us until we finally conquered the wave enough to ride it, and I never remember going home feeling sore. If what I needed that day was a bus ride into town for a salad with every yummy topping I could imagine, then I’d go get that salad. Together with my friends we’d spend most nights after class laughing over dinner followed by a trip to our nightly aerobics class and a bedtime snack of a soft-serve ice cream cone. It was so sexy, that feeling that your mind and body are firing on all cylinders. We didn’t know what we had back then, but we know it now because it’s missing completely from our lives. I’ve grown to believe that my brain is firing on all cylinders when I don’t call my kids by the wrong name.

Now that I recognize this, I’m infuriated by the infomercials I once enjoyed. They know that they are appealing to our deepest desires and they also know that they can’t deliver—no matter how many hard-bodied testimonials swear that a standard exercise and eating plan is all we need to achieve all we desire in life. They can’t deliver because, while they promise that we’ll feel light, the only way we can actually feel light is to have balance. And we struggle with balance from the minute that we decide that we are going to align our lives with another—which we all inexplicably desire to do.

I’ve now turned off the television and I’ve packed my yoga-mat, complete with that new-rubber smell, and I’m going to join fifteen other women as we contort our bodies into unnatural headstands in our quest for balance. I might even browse the bookstore afterward. Buying everything online may be convenient, but it might be pleasant to take some time and look. I’ll have to see how I feel. At least this time, I know what’s missing and any Las Vegas bookie would tell you that knowing increases your odds of winning.