I love my FitBit.
It motivates me to keep active, and when I hit my daily 10,000 steps I feel like the next obvious step for me is pro-athletics (right after I win a Nobel prize for saving the planet, publish a series of novels and find a cure for cancer).
I dream big.
My somewhat inflated ambitions tend to get flushed down the Great Toilet of Dreams, though, when I remember that I'm not a medical scientist, and writing novels is really really hard. Also, If I strapped my FitBit to Finian's wrist it'd run out of numbers by lunchtime.
Finian rarely stops moving.
He has a sensory processing disorder which means it's hard for him to make sense of the information his body is giving him. He has to keep moving to regulate his sense of where his body is in space, so he paces a lot.
Day and night.
While eating, watching TV and brushing his teeth.
While waiting for the school bus and standing in queues.
This need was especially difficult to deal with during lockdown, and caused an escalation in meltdowns and self-harming episodes. It was one of the factors that lead to my mental crash-and-burn earlier this year.
Part of my on-going therapy is about learning to cultivate inner stillness (a steady work in progress). Inner quiet helps me to deconstruct painful defenses and get to know and honour my authentic self. That said, I'd prefer if my authentic self had better behaved hair, but whatcha gonna do? A calm centre facilitates mental clarity and emotional equilibrium. It's hard to find fault with it.
The irony isn't lost on me that Finian's insatiable need for movement has lead me to find inner stillness. What I wonder, though, is if it's possible for Finian to experience inner calm, or if his cogs are permanently set to cruise control? His eternal pacing is his body's way of trying to reach a state of balance, but it remains one of those painful, unanswerable questions if he is capable of feeling true peace.
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