Reflections on aging and the difficulties of allowing oneself to enjoy life while recovering from an injury.
Woke up Friday feeling slightly less sore in my lower-back. Had picked up an injury from my brazilian jiu-jitsu class and it made it difficult for me to move around without some pain or stiffness for the past few days.
Noticed texts from friends and family members wishing me a happy birthday. Didn’t respond to them right away, but I felt glad that I still got these texts every year even though I usually never look forward to my birthday.
Had the day off because it coincided with the Anniversary of the Armenian Genocide. Was really looking forward to take that extra day to recover for my back and maybe get some time to myself to breathe and do something that I might genuinely enjoy.
Went to Glendale to see my grandma and had lunch with her. My boss came over to say hi to my grandma and me and wish me a happy birthday. I then walked all the way to Americana to head for the Barnes & Nobles. I thought it would be nice to spend some time in a bookstore in the middle of the day and get some reading done outside of my room.
It was incredible. I didn’t feel anything out of the ordinary at first. To be honest, from the outside it looked like I was just browsing and taking my time to read the first few pages of books. I even sat by the window on the second floor overlooking the plaza and read a few pages of Nabokov’s Ada or Ardor. It felt great to read a book that dense, complex and elegant outside of my usual routine of the bus that takes me to downtown or the small cramped office where I work.
I felt some pain and had some difficulty on my long walk back to my grandmother’s home. I realized it was foolish to push myself to walk this hard while having an injury which I didn’t know was serious. I did some light yoga poses for the lower back pain the night before and earlier that morning and felt slightly better. But the pain didn’t fully go away and I did struggle with my mobility.
I find it fitting to have that injury so close to my birthday as it reminds me of my aging body, now thirty-three, at a time when I am trying to take better care of myself.
Had a strong inkling to go to the Iliad Bookshop to check out their selections. It was my birthday after all and what would a drive to another part of the county cost me apart from time and gas? It was my birthday. I could spend the day how I wanted. But something inside me just wanted to go home. I knew myself too well that there were diminishing returns when it came to treating myself.
I’ve always been excessively withholding to myself. Not just in terms of money. I often feel that I cannot allow myself to enjoy simple pleasures until I have justified myself in some shape or form. If I’m being entirely honest, I have struggled to enjoy the simple act of reading a book since I moved to Los Angeles.
For several reasons. The stress of adapting to life in Los Angeles and adjusting to adult life. Lack of time and good reading environments. The mental noise. The nagging, gnawing sense of dread about this or that errand, responsibility or obligation that keeps me from being able to truly enjoy reading a book or doing anything I enjoy in my free time alone.
This, probably stemming from my insecurity and dissatisfaction of being stuck in low paid jobs and having to juggle multiple responsibilities, has made it difficult for me to, not only carve out time to, but also cultivate peace of mind and a consistent routine to enjoy the very act of reading.
Which is why it surprises me that, over the past few years, I’ve gravitated toward dense novels— Roberto Bolano’s The Savage Detectives, Thomas Bernhard’s Extinction, Karl Ove Knausgaard’s My Struggle, Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita, Ralph Ellison’s Invisible Man, and now Nabokov’s Ada or Ardor.
The highlight of my birthday was cleaning my room while slowly recovering from my lower back pain. Or at least noticing that the pain from bending, sitting or standing in certain positions started to slowly subside. It makes me wonder how much injuries I’m going to pick up for as long as I’m practicing brazilian jiu-jitsu. I injured my left thumb a few weeks back as I was rolling with someone and I can still feel something off with the joint at the base of the thumb everytime I press the spacebar on my keyboard.