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A Day of Adjustments, Distractions, and Mindful Choices
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- Written by: Healthysport
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Yesterday, I was on the verge of going to the gym. The weather was windy, which usually worsens my allergies, and that alone made the gym seem like the better option. For reasons I can no longer recall, however, I didn’t go. Perhaps it was because I was feeling discomfort in my right shoulder and knee. I’ve been trying to limit myself to light resistance for now, and I know from experience that gym machines can tempt me to push beyond what my body is ready for.
Instead, I focused on light-duty activities at home—sweeping the floor, checking on my plants, folding clothes fresh out of the dryer. I also moved my thriving hibiscus and trinettes cuttings indoors, anticipating that temperatures would dip into the 50s over the coming days. While doing this, I realized that many of my newer plants needed saucers to catch excess water. That realization led me to a quick trip to Home Depot.
As expected, the trip was anything but quick. I bought the saucers I needed, but I also came home with plants—mostly philodendrons, which I’d been planning to buy for weeks, plus a few pothos, my “plant flavor of the week.” I picked up a small pot containing both Marble Queen and Golden pothos, which I eagerly separated once I got home. I also found a Pink Princess philodendron that could be divided into two plants, so I ended up with a pair. Finally, I added a Lemon Lime pothos, whose color combination I find absolutely irresistible.
To add to the joy of the day, I noticed that my bougainvillea cuttings were starting to sprout new leaves. This came on top of the elephant ear bulbs, which seem to be growing at an astonishing pace. These small signs of life never fail to lift my spirits.
I placed my newly purchased plants on the outdoor table to repot later, then went inside to cook and eat lunch. Afterward, I lay down to rest my back. I’m not even sure whether I slept or simply drifted in and out of rest. Over the past two days, I also watched a couple of Filipino movies that I found lacking in quality. This is not meant to diminish Filipino cinema as a whole—I know there are excellent Filipino filmmakers—but when films are made primarily to cater to lower economic segments, artistic quality often takes a back seat to commercial survival.
This is less a reflection of intellectual or artistic capacity and more a consequence of economic reality. Economy often dictates the product, not the absence of creativity or intelligence.
That said, there are ways for Filipino artists and craftsmen to produce meaningful, high-quality work outside the constraints of economics. In my own case, I write without trying to please anyone but myself—or rather, my own sense of quality. Of course, what I consider “good” may not align with others’ tastes, but effort and integrity still matter.
Writing stories or novels, for example, requires little capital compared to filmmaking. There is no massive financial risk involved. Similarly, video production through social media platforms can showcase thoughtful work without enormous expense, as long as popularity and traffic are not the primary goals. Some creators manage to achieve both quality and popularity, but based on my admittedly limited observation of online content from the Philippines, much of what I see is oriented toward family gatherings, celebrity lifestyles, beauty pageants, novelty skits, or surface-level entertainment.
I have no interest in demeaning these forms, but I personally find them lacking in intellectual depth, artistic nourishment, moral reflection, or cultural inspiration. Storytelling, blogging, vlogging, and essay writing require only the capital of the mind—words, thought, and intention—along with basic tools like a pen, a notebook, or a laptop. That is the real investment, and it deserves one’s best effort.
Yesterday, I finally finished reading Book 7 of The Wheel of Time. It was a slow and sometimes tedious read, partly because of the lifestyle changes I’ve been making. I used to walk miles every day while listening to audiobooks, until my legs started protesting. Walking endlessly just to listen to a book can become both boring and painful.
I’ve since modified my routine—less walking, more gardening, and some weight training, as health experts recommend. I’ve also come to appreciate exercising without external sensory stimulation. Walking in silence allows my mind to wander, process ideas, clear anxieties, and review events—much like meditation. Noise and distractions interrupt that mental clarity. What I enjoy most about walking is being surrounded by nature while listening to my own thoughts.
After finishing Book 7, I decided to pause before starting Book 8. I’ve been missing philosophical, scientific, and biographical reading—the kind of intellectual nourishment I once enjoyed regularly. I’m now thinking about what to read next, something rooted in philosophy or physics, something that challenges the mind differently.
At the same time, I’ve been revisiting old, abandoned plans: returning to gym workouts after illness, updating my PHP-based website, reviving an online store concept using AI—projects I once dropped due to shifting interests, especially my earlier obsession with video recording and editing.
This highlights the recurring gap between plans and outcomes. The real issue is perspective. I tend to pack too many goals into too little time, without accounting for fatigue, shifting interests, focus, and distraction. A more realistic approach would be to structure my days deliberately—much like exercise programming. Cardio on certain days, resistance on others. Reading on one day, programming on another, creative work on a third. Trying to do everything at once almost guarantees frustration and unfinished goals.
Distractions are inevitable, even outside social media. Over the past few days, I watched Filipino movies and spent time scrolling online—mostly unplanned activities. These distractions aren’t always bad. When I’m mentally taxed or stressed, they can be compensatory and even restorative.
Gardening, however, is my most effective mental reset. I’m grateful for the horticulture courses I took in the past—not just for the technical knowledge, but for the discipline of observation they taught me. Native plants thrive without intervention, ideal for purists or busy people. But caring for non-native plants that pose no invasive risk requires attention and dialogue—learning to “listen” to what a plant needs: water, light, soil, or fertilizer. When those needs are met, the reward is beauty. These challenges are not burdens; they are grounding, meaningful distractions.
This is why retirement can be just as fulfilling as full-time work. It can be busy, purposeful, and satisfying if approached thoughtfully. Work once justified itself through income, but I no longer crave expensive things, status symbols, or attention. What I seek now is peace of mind, enough physical health to remain independent, and a mind capable of enjoying thoughtful reflection. There is wonder in both the macro and micro worlds—if one pays attention.
Mindfulness and the Role of Distraction
Distractions are not only unavoidable; they are necessary. Consider the 20-20-20 rule for eye care: every 20 minutes, look at something 20 feet away for 20 seconds. Or the physical therapist’s advice to stand every 30 minutes to prevent back and neck strain. These pauses are forms of mindfulness—intentional interruptions that restore balance.
The same principle applies to the brain. Sustained focus without breaks leads to irritability and fatigue. This is why I admire surgeons who can operate for hours at a time, though I often encounter them afterward as short-tempered and exhausted. I’ve even heard that their profession has high divorce rates—anecdotal, perhaps, but telling.
I used to open social media whenever I needed a break—unless I was programming, when I fiercely guarded my mental zone. Back in university, I often solved programming problems away from the computer. Stepping back allowed insight. That, too, was mindfulness in practice, even if I didn’t call it that then.
Distraction becomes a problem only when it turns mindless. Smartphones save us from boredom while waiting in line or sitting with uncertainty. I use mine that way often. The problem—at least for me—is restraint. A quick glance can turn into three hours lost.
Mindfulness is the antidote. It is the practice of knowing what you are doing while you are doing it. It is awareness without judgment.
Gardening helps anchor me in that awareness. It breaks up long periods of sitting, reduces eye strain, encourages movement, and reconnects me with physical reality. Checking soil moisture, adjusting light, watering or holding back—these small actions keep my body and mind engaged in healthy ways. Other useful distractions include walking, stretching, cleaning, exercising, or talking with friends.
There are good and bad distractions. Hours of uninterrupted screen time—social media, gaming, even work—can be harmful. TV binge-watching can be the same. Structure makes the difference. When life lacks structure, impulses take over, and suddenly there are a thousand things to do and no clear starting point. The result is paralysis—and nothing gets done.
Closing Note
Today, I finally went to the gym. The weather was bad, allergies were a concern, and the gym offered a convenient setup for resistance training. I still avoided overhead exercises due to shoulder pain. I may eventually adopt a hybrid routine—gym workouts combined with home-based resistance.
There was an older man wandering the gym, examining the machines as if on a tour. When he saw me using the bicep curl machine, he exclaimed that he’d never thought of doing that before. Having spent much of my life in and out of gyms, I found the moment quietly amusing—and oddly comforting.
We are all, in our own ways, figuring things out again.
Reflection: Living Within Means
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- Written by: Healthysport
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LOL. I have nothing to research today, which feels strange because researching has been a habit of mine since the internet first became part of daily life. Still, I learned a new word: Lagum, which means having—and enjoying—what is enough in life.
Out of habit, especially back when I was still earning good money, I would automatically search online for answers to my questions or easily subscribe to apps and websites to satisfy my curiosity about new skills or areas of learning. Sometimes, I mindlessly browsed online stores for the most trivial things that crossed my mind. The result was accumulation—things I never truly needed. The knowledge I hoped to gain sat unopened in books I bought but never read. I had apps that charged me for years without ever being opened. Cameras, gadgets, laptops, and PCs were acquired on impulse, driven by the idea that I might someday use them to learn a new skill or technique. In the end, nothing came of them.
Lately, especially now that I live on a fixed income, I still find myself habitually searching for new ideas, tasks, or desires—dental fixes, toothpaste, and mouthwash being my most recent fascinations. Then there are plants and gardening: grow lights, clear propagation boxes, starter plants—some of them expensive even at a discount. Yet this hobby feels different. It gives me something to look forward to each day. I wake up excited to see a new leaf, a new bud, or a flower. My interest has expanded beyond indoor plants to propagating ornamentals and experimenting with soil mixes, watering schedules, humidity levels, plant groupings, and light exposure. There is always a reason to step into my growing room and patiently watch for new shoots or roots.
I understand my own nature better now. My personality has always been like lighter fluid—sudden ignition, a large and dramatic flame, followed by quick burnout. Having extra resources in the past only intensified that tendency. With fewer resources now, I pause more. I take time, linger, double-check, and assess the true value of whatever captures my attention. It reminds me of old-fashioned window shopping—people who linger without buying because they cannot afford to indulge. I have seen how unchecked desire can spiral: young people going into debt over credit cards, coworkers sued for unpaid bills, salaries garnished. While I usually stayed within my means, even that restraint can become its own burden.
At times, I wonder if I am shortchanging myself. I still have some resources, yet I fear I may be living too far below my means—sacrificing joy and happiness in the name of frugality, penny-counting, and excessive restraint.
But perhaps the better question is not whether I deny myself too much, but whether what I enjoy daily is exactly what I am meant to enjoy. There can be a disconnect between what feels like “enough” to my authentic self and what the world—both virtual and real—defines as enough.
This is where the presence of the Holy Spirit becomes invaluable. It shapes my mindset, clarifies what is right and wrong, and draws a clear line between what is enough and what is too much. What truly fulfills me is simple: meditation, exercise, reading good books, gardening, and revisiting skills I once learned but abandoned. These are the things that genuinely make me happy.
Still, I sometimes wake up thinking about things that could potentially add happiness—gadgets, apps, subscriptions, jewelry, watches, computers. The list is endless, and it is easy to see how covetousness and greed are fueled by internet marketing. This realization partly explains my desire to step away from the online world.
There is, however, an escape from these temptations. Just as a young woman who once spent freely learns restraint when she marries and starts a family, or an adventurous young man settles into a stable job, life changes shape behavior. Responsibility reorders priorities.
The same is true for me. Retirement and limited resources have forced me to value what truly matters. Aging imposes boundaries—things I can and cannot do. Online shopping must stop because desire no longer aligns with reality. Travel and adventure are uncertain due to medical and physical limitations. Career ambitions and business ventures are no longer viable. Even social media must be kept minimal; frequent posting feeds my people-pleasing tendencies and disturbs my peace. I learned this the hard way when constant checking of likes and views cost me sleep and serenity. These are daily lessons the Holy Spirit places before me. This mindset is not a one-time transformation but an ongoing process of self-discovery, habit adjustment, and meaning-making.
That is why I cherish meditation—it is my way of discovering myself under the guidance of the Holy Spirit.
Today is Monday, and Jim has finally returned to work after weeks of uncertainty. The house he works in changed ownership, and the new owner drastically cut services, which reduced his hours. Fortunately, his boss has offered him additional hours at another facility—enough to cover his needs. Situations like this are difficult, especially after fifty. I know this well. I spent years navigating job transitions, new bosses, coworkers, and endless paperwork in healthcare—a field that constantly restructures to reduce costs. I am grateful I retired when I did.
Jim had been homebound for weeks, waiting until his finances became strained. I didn’t mind covering his share of expenses, but I worried about him having no money at all. While he has a small retirement fund and a promised inheritance from his mother, neither is accessible. With his mother nearing eighty and his sister living out of state, I may be his only real support in a crisis. Thankfully, he worked things out. Jim is not lazy; he is independent and always repays what he borrows.
What unsettles me is the feeling of being alone in the house while he works—even for just a few hours. I feel like a child with a sweet tooth left alone in a candy store. Ironically, my routine doesn’t change whether it’s a weekday or weekend, or whether Jim is home or not. Yet being alone triggers the illusion of newfound freedom, even though I already have complete freedom. This contradiction reveals something amiss within me.
Distractions are another challenge, especially those fueled by old habits. Posting on social media amplifies them. Still, I am less vulnerable now. I treat social media as self-expression without expectations. Excess attention destabilizes me; I am too socially conscious to handle it well.
What truly draws me to the digital world is writing. I love crafting blogs, articles, and stories, even if no one reads them. I still create reels—some good, some average—but I now understand that algorithms and monetization are not meant for everyone. I am grateful I did not become trapped by that pursuit.
These days, I am content with the few people who read and view what I share. That is enough.
- Ramon and Diabetes
- Self-Graded, Individualized Exercise: A Practical and Evidence-Based Approach for Aging Bodies
- Exercise Progression for Adults
- Cortisol: A Senior’s Trusted Helper—and a Hormone to Handle With Care
- ANY MOVEMENT WILL DO: Rethinking Exercise, Aging, and Quality of Life
- Reflection Tuesday Morning
- The Gradual Shift
- Retirement: Disowning, Downsizing, Trimming
- Reflection on this Sunday Morning
- Advocacy
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