There are many things in this world that taste great to me, one of them is a bowl of cereal soaked in milk till the very rim. It's a breakfast ordained by plenty of marketing, one that I would have liked even without famous basketball players printed on the cereal box that are there to make you feel like you can be as tall as them if only you bought their cereal.
I can eat the contents of such a bowl of cereals and even drink coffee afterwards, however, my lesson is always harsh when I do this and I learned it long ago.
I don't run well on so much milk and so much cereal, as I discovered first on the morning of 2003.
It was a beautiful Saturday and I think we had an another Jewish holiday at school.
Friday night we planned to play some basketball early on the morrow, I went to sleep early and woke up early. Dull grey morning greeted me and with it a sleepy house, none would make breakfast for me and I wasn't going to improve my culinary skills this early in the morning. I made myself a bowl of sugar coated cereals with a very generous milk bath for those cereals. I ate all the cereals, drank all the milk dutifully, as I was raised to never leave any food behind. That included milk.
Immediately the feeling of nausea hit me, something was wrong. I never drank this much milk before and I knew I didn't have any allergy. It was just a personally defined maximum capacity of milk that I surpassed.
When I was really young, still living in a Ukrainian village, my grandmother would make me drink hot doe (female goat) milk, rightly so squeezed out of the utters only moments before I was bound to drink it all. It was an unpleasant experience and one that would haunt me years later, as I could never finish the doe's hot milk and it'd drive me to puke it all out with the first sips entering my mouth.
On that Saturday, I surpassed my milk and cereal capacity. I let myself rest for 10 minutes, to let the feeling of nausea calm down. It did, after a fashion. Not wanting to be late to the basketball game, I got my shabby bike, mounted it and cycled off towards the basketball court, which was a couple of kilometers away. I don't know why I agreed to play basketball, I hadn't had the chance to gather enough experience for the game to begin to be fun and I played with people who had and were very good at the game.
The roads on the way to the basketball court were devoid of any traffic, it was a charming morning indeed. I arrived and we started playing. Shortly, after only a brief warm-up, I realized something was wrong. My childhood memories of drinking hot doe's milk hit me again, horrors realized, I puked the whole contents of my stomach with all the sugar coated cereal and the milk out on the very basketball court we used for the game. My body couldn't handle the cereal with the milk and doing sports at the same time, I could only sympathize with my body's struggle as I wiped my mouth and quenched a sudden thirst with the help of a drinking fountain.
Some things are like cereal.
Cereal and milk.
The cereal and the milk seem appetizing, I already had prior experience with milk as a child and have gained the knowledge about myself to know better, that the taste of it is a deception, that there is a bitter price to pay for my thoughtless impulses. That those impulses might carry a high price for a moment's pleasure.
That perhaps cereal is easy to prepare, tastes really good, but it's not worth it. It never does worth it, does it?
When I gorge myself with too much chocolate, I get a really heavy feeling of stupidity and stomach pains. It was tasty in the moments of eating the chocolate, but the price of ignoring my hard earned knowledge and experience is way too much in comparison to my pleasure that passed after brief moments. Some things are just like cereal, I keep reminding myself. The price of cereal also kicks into action in the absence of a much needed action.
An important phone call to make that you are delaying? Official matters that aren't being done because of whatever personal fear? I had those, still do sometimes, I paid the price and I remind myself of what this bowl of cereal can do to you, what a little action of momentary weakness can cause, what kinds of feelings will you have to experience later on because of the avoidance of making the right decisions that you know you have to make right now.
We all know what we have to do, if we don't, we know how to educate ourselves into knowing. What prevents us from doing those things with out privileged situation? A similar story to the bowl of cereal, an avoidance of the much needed action and the reluctance to use hard earned experience. Whatever is in consideration before being done must be looked at from a point of a higher perspective, that observes possible futures and acknowledges that our time is finite. Knowing that our actions and inaction carry a great invisible weight that reveals itself in due time only, whether it's good or not is up to you.
As I myself begin to value what I'm here to do, thus I begin to value myself more and this lets me behave in a freer way, less conscious of myself in a way but not a wild self either. Just following my real wants and expressing my real thoughts, in return, signaling for others that it is okay to express their sincere thoughts as well.
You do what you really must do and you reveal more of your true self, the obsolete defensive coatings are shed, you move slowly from good to better, from bad to good.
Immediate and necessary action, action that you decide to take on 3 seconds after the need arises, is the essence of the bowl of cereal. The bowl of cereal is the easy alternative, it's easy to fall prey to it. Harder to do what's right continuously, there is discipline and knowledge of the self involved when you want to do the right thing. You fail at doing the right thing sometimes even with the right intentions, but do not despair and keep the whatever it is goal in your mind, in your notebook, in your computer, visible and always present. Reviewed and thought of, the bowl of cereal will continue to score only a second place and no more.
Listening to: Starbound OST
Reading: Color and Light - James Gurney