The Treadmill

When my mother mentioned buying a treadmill once, my father looked at her with a slightly surprised frown on his face. “That contraption won’t take you anywhere,” he said, “you walk and walk, and you never move from the point you started.” It was a joke, of course, but when I thought about those words later on in life, I realized they can be applied to more than exercise.

A treadmill is surely a great invention – one can walk in the comfort of one’s own home, sheltered from petty crime, elements, and even loneliness, as a TV is often nearby; one can also exercise without getting dressed, as a treadmill, thankfully, has no mirrors. Those are all great advantages, and it is understandable why many prefer walking on a rolling mat than on a sidewalk, but, like all things, even treadmills have downfalls.

Growing up in the city I walked everywhere, and it wasn’t long before I started noticing life exploding all around me as I did. While walking to school in the mornings, I always passed by a bakery owned by the father of one of my friends. I still remember the fragrant aroma of freshly baked focaccia, as it escaped the poorly sealed door like a genie freed from of a bottle. As I waited from my friend – she used to go help her parents at the bakery before school – I often stood outside the door, watching people walk in and out of the café directly across the street. For a few mornings, I had noticed a boy who always seemed to walk into the cafe staring down at his feet; after a few moments inside, he always came out holding a small white paper bag and never looked up. That morning he dropped his paper bag, and while normally I would have just remained frozen by the door, I had a sudden burst of courage, walked over, picked up the bag and handed it to him. He raised his eyes and smiled at me, and when he did, I noticed the skin on his neck was badly damaged from a bad burn. When he saw me looking at it, he quickly looked down, but I told him my name and asked for his. That morning marked the beginning of a good friendship that lasted many years and was a great source of support while growing up.

I still like to walk. Over the years, walking has allowed me to witness many situations I have learned something from, and has gifted me with opportunities to notice the unpretentious beauty of things and people around me. Many of those things would have gone completely unnoticed had I chosen to walk on a treadmill instead.

We often give up on exploring opportunities because we are afraid to detach from a false sense of security and comfort, at the cost of isolating and limiting ourselves. We contemplate the need of making changes in our world, but more times than not, we are not ready to let go of what’s holding us back. Even when we are unhappy of our current situation, we stick with it because it feels familiar, because we don’t want to stir the pot, because, ultimately, we are afraid of upsetting the order of things and getting lost in the shuffle. We have the power to change, and yet many of us continue walking on the treadmill, basking in the illusion that we ARE doing something while in fact we are not. In the end, we CAN turn off the switch, step off and walk outside into the real world; when we do, we will truly know we are getting somewhere.

Instant Reward vs. Long-Term Benefits

“Opportunity may knock only once, but temptation leans on the doorbell.” ~ Author Unknown


Yesterday I had the best time talking to my daughter and two of her little friends, as they were telling me what they want to be when they grow up. Although Princess was definitely on top of the chart, the next two hot personas on the “want to be” list were mommy and model. That fun talk made me think about all the projects that we envision and give up because of obstacles and hardship. Are obstacles the main reason for abandoning our goals? Or could it be that instant reward often gets in the way of our allegiance to the original plan?

Humans are naturally creatures of comfort, and will choose the easy path that will cause the least amount of unease. Unless we are able to exercise a good dose of self-discipline, most of us are inclined to take the easy road and succumb to the temptation of instant reward.

Long-term benefits offer a reward which is often in our greater interest but might take months or years to solidify, while temporary satisfaction manifest immediately but is likely not what we need in the long run. When we give in to temptation we feel momentarily exhilarated, but quickly develop feelings of guilt as we feel that we have cheated ourselves. Instant reward can come in the form of indulgence or as a band-aid – regardless of which we act upon, we feel frustrated with ourselves and are more likely to give in on future occasions. There are ways to build a stronger resolve. One of them is to set small goals for ourselves - not too far down the road - and stick with them, independently from the fires that erupt around us. We can increase the amount of time between the original plan and the reward and continue telling ourselves that it is only a temporary state of discomfort.

Everything can be overcome one step at a time, if we accept that life itself is dynamic and therefore on a constant energy shift. If I was to wake up tomorrow morning and someone told me to quit smoking forever, I would find that thought overwhelming; if, instead, was told to quit for a day, or an hour at a time, I could summon the resolve to follow through for such a short time. We can’t keep our mind focused on forever but everyone can sacrifice for one day. Maybe, then, our long-term reward can become a much closer goal – one we can feel comfortable sticking with in preparation of bigger things to come.

Back to New Orleans -- Let the Magic Begin!

There are moments that remain so clear in one’s mind that it would be suitable to say they were forever captured in a mental photograph. For me, one of these moments took place a little over a year ago, when on a chilly April afternoon – a snapping breeze was blowing in, unforgivably and unseasonably, from the Mississippi river only a couple of blocks down – I stood at the corner of Dumaine and Royal in new Orleans, and vowed to be back the next year or even sooner.

Earlier that day my parents and I had gone on a tour of Honey Swamp and, tired after the trip, my mother and father had decided to stay back at the hotel while I went strolling around in the Quarter. Once I crossed Canal Street, it wasn’t long before I felt as if I had stepped through a magical portal: Happy people, their lightly powdered shirts a delightful reminder they had betrayed their New Year’s resolutions, and had been unable to resist the forbidden aroma of warm beignets and coffee, walked around in no hurry, while the sound of street performers increasingly swallowed the pockets of silence with each step I took toward Jackson Square. New Orleans is one of those cities – in fact, it is THE city -- one can’t fully understand until one has experienced its magic. Unlike most beautiful tourist venues, New Orleans lives and breathes, and hums a melody of its own creation, familiar enough to make everyone feel at home within its weathered alleys, and certainly unique enough to take one’s breath away. Shy of the Eiffel Tower, New Orleans is the younger sister of Paris.

Once I got a little deeper into the heart of the Quarter, I suddenly thought of something: New Orleans isn’t only famous for its beautiful wrought iron balconies, but also for its pulsating spiritual essence…so what if I asked a little help from the very same Saints I had grown to know and appreciate throughout my life? I stopped by a bar and bought a beer, then walked down to a tobacco shop and bought a cigar -- both items are customarily offered to Elegba, the opener of doors, who’s also known as Eleggua or even St. Michael and St. Anthony, but I won’t linger on this too long, since it is really not important in this story – then sat on a doorstep, lifted the bottle of beer a trifle, and lit the cigar. As I blew a puff of smoke toward the sky, I silently offered the cigar and the beer to Elegba, and mentally voiced my petition – within a year, I wanted to be back in the same spot, and be able to once again drink in the joyful energy of the place.

After I left New Orleans, the year blew by swifter than the breeze lifting from the river. Many things happened in the interim, including the release of my two books; and now, as I am taking one day at a time venturing into the bayous of the publishing world, my petition came to pass: On September 8, I will be boarding a plane heading to the city of my heart, as part of The Book of Obeah promotional tour.

So, thank you Elegba, for opening this amazing door…I will see you in New Orleans, the cigar is on me.