I learnt something the other night about saying 'sorry' due to tardiness. Pretty much that lateness translates to carelessness and disrespect. Your appointment, the place you were supposed to be, at a certain time, wasn't important enough for you to respect it by being on time. Generally speaking, this is true. It was damn right for me this morning. I couldn't have cared less about the gym. I didn't want to go. Period. Admittedly, there are sometimes obstacles that deter us; car accidents, traffic, unsettled children, lost possessions or unforeseen crisis such 'coffee stained shirt look' or the 'broken heel limp.' If we be completely honest with ourselves, most of these occurrences can actually be avoided by getting up earlier, being super organised or being extra careful. But we are imperfect people.
To throw a spanner in the works, we then have the term 'better late than never.' Which is often spoken by compassion souls, who do indeed realise that we are imperfect people, and grant us grace because they too have found themselves in similar situations, every now and again.
I guess I brought this up for two reasons. The first being because I was late this morning, and having been enlightened to the underlying meaning of this action, I wanted to confirm its truth. The second reason is to delve into the concept we all know to be true; the fact that we are imperfect people. I wonder what the scientific stance on this subject is. The majority of us seem to believe it. It's a common excuse muttered, snapped or exclaimed in times of error, but the reason for why we are imperfect...well, that depends on your beliefs regarding how we came to be on this earth. I believe we are imperfect because Adam and Eve gave into temptation and ate the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil in the Garden of Eden. 'Eden' means 'delight' in Hebrew. I have Google to thank for this information. Speaking of imperfect people, how ironic that this Google search also found 'The Garden of Eden - one of Melbourne's biggest and best brothels.'
No comment.
Anyway, I bring this subject of imperfection to light because, today, as I was sipping my soy cap, and eating my walnut toast with olive tapenade and fresh tomato at Uliveto (Kings Cross - home of sick male entertainment - more irony), I came across an article that discussed the links between depression and food. These two topics hit very close to home on my sensitivity radar. I have yet to disclose all information regarding the details of my past, but these two topics are pretty much the centre of a very deep chapter of my life. The sentence in the article that really hit home was this "If you have suffered from depression or ADHD yourself, or have witnessed someone else struggling with these illnesses, you will know that any improvement is cause for celebration - especially when it's achieved without side effects and with noticeable physical benefits."
It really took me back. It took me back to the days I spent in my room, sitting on my heating vent, wondering whether it would be possible to go to sleep and never wake up. That seemed like the easiest option. My lack of nutrition had certainly altered my mental capacity.
I love the following statement regarding the positive results of feeding micronutrients to people with depression, it being "It was a small trial and will be easily dismissed by sceptics." We come back to people, their imperfections, and ability to discredit everything and anything.
I do hope I'm making sense...
Nearing the end of the article, I go on to read this: "I am not suggesting that improved nutrition will be the sole or primary answer to everyday misery or more serious mental illness. And I am well aware how hard it is to persuade someone to eat better in order to feel better. Yet whether we are struggling or well, it seems wilful to ignore how directly food affects us (All we have to do is look at obesity levels to prove this one - this is my comment by the way; not actually part of the article)...I'm persuaded that what we drink as well as what we eat makes a massive difference to energy levels, levels of calm or irritability and overall wellbeing and mood." Couldn't agree more. It's safe to stay I've been struggling with this for the past seven years...but more on that later. Just thought this article was interesting; and not something usually found in a weekend newspaper for lazy brunch subject matter. On that note, however, brunch was great. Have been wanting to check out Uliveto for quite some time, and finally made it today. Menu was extensive - something for all tastebud tribes out there. Will definitely be back for the fruit bruschetta!
After brunchie (people say brekky don't they?), I wandered into the heart of Kings Cross. I happened to have prior knowledge of a cutesy market that is held every Saturday. Have to say though, as I walked down the notorious Macleay St, I clutched my bag a little tighter than normal, and felt atypically unsafe. I saw a lady with a massive potbelly. Too old to be pregnant, it took me a moment to realise 'she' was actually a lost soul "he." Another subject of irony for the day: the Potts Point end of Macleay Street is a world away from the men's clubs and shifty characters of the Kings Cross end. After having a little squiz at the Delis full of gourmet goods, and the overpriced bookstores dotted along the street, I headed for home.
I am compelled to speak of one more detail of my day, which occurred this morning on my carelessly late journey to the gym. There was a man in front of me, driving a silver convertible. During our unsolicited contact, he proceeded to brush his hair, sunscreen his face, and then try on various hats, as if deciding who he wanted to be on this, Saturday 13th March. Was he going to be a floppy white hat wearer, or was his fate a rowdy cool-cat cowboy? It was, to say the least, hilarious. Aside from being funny, it was also quite interesting to observe. I often feel as though we are constantly juggling different hats in our lives. There's the 'work' hat, where we must perform, be on time (hmmph), initiate brilliance, and be ahead of the game, then there's the mummy or daddy hat, where we must have patience, speak toddler/baby/tween/teen language, be cool and know how and when to discipline, there's the friend hat, the sister/brother hat, the pet hat, the exercise hat, the chef hat, the cleaning hat...and the list goes on. Who do we want or need to be, on any given day? And how do we remain true to ourselves when we wear all these different hats?
I know I've jumped all over the place today, and I really do hope what I've said makes sense...if it doesn't, never mind - it makes sense to me (heehee).
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