“Will Power Hour”

Will Power Hour

Today’s Words of Wisdom:

“Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.”

~Mahatma Gandhi

The Foda’s Take: Gandhi, man! A gift to the world that just keeps on giving. For example, today he taught me a new word. Indomitable: Impossible to subdue or defeat. Which may have prompted a moment where I went to brush my hair and yelled at the baby-fine locks at my temples: “You cowlicks are indomitable!” But I digress.

Good morrow, fine people! Today we shall dissect… <drum roll, please>…..

Will power. Not to be, ahem, conceited or anything, but I’ve got it. I’ve had to have it. As anyone with a chronic illness knows, you have to commit yourself one hundred percent to doing everything within your power to get well, no matter how unpleasant. Like drinking activated charcoal. (Which– for those of you who don’t know– tastes, I’d imagine, very similar to bantha fodder.)

So with such a plethora of finely honed will power at my disposal, you can imagine how frustrated I can get when– like yesterday– my brain is set on GO-GO-GO but my body is lying prone on the couch, stubbornly refusing to move its “feels-like-they-weigh-ten-thousand-pounds” limbs. Which naturally spurred me into a state of “AAARRRGGGGGG!!!!” all Charlie Brown fumbling-the-football style.

But then today I woke up. (Yes, I’m being both literal and figurative.) Because as I shuffled to make my morning breakfast, body already feeling like the tin man rusted over, it suddenly dawned on me. Why have I only ever correlated will power with my physical accomplishments? Why not use my abundance of will to empower my brain? And why did that thought bring dread to my very soul?

Which is when “Legally Blonde” Elle Woods popped into my brain and quipped: “What, like it’s hard?” Um… YEAH.

Oh, yes. I’m talking about MINDFULNESS, people. That old nugget.

So this week I’ve decided to incorporate a practice my mother– referred to in this galaxy as Professor Momgonagall— calls “power hour.” It’s something she does once a week with the sole purpose of accomplishing all those annoying “I don’t wanna do it but I have to” kind of tasks. Like the annual cleaning of their basement, where my parents graciously store items for us that won’t fit in our tiny place. (This is significant, because in addition to being allergic to pollen, dander, and dust, my mother is also deathly allergic to clutter. And yet she routinely consents to storing my larger seasonal goods. Which this year prompted the making of an adorable video wherein she displayed my things all Vanna White style to see what I’d like to keep.)

Only the mind can’t just be trained once a week. It needs daily attention. (Needy noggin!) So instead of one power hour per week, I’m going to try logging 10 power minutes per day. Then 15. Then 20. My theory is that with time, I will eventually be able to live mindfully throughout the day.

You see, all the will power in the world is not going to get me better faster. I’m already doing everything I can to heal my physical form. But the mind… that I can work on. So here goes. Power up, people!

Activating Cranial Thrusters,

The Foda