Life in Extremes

When our family got a WII gaming system, Mario Kart was all the rage. My kids loved it and played it often. They would beg me to play as well.

I’m really bad at video games. I don’t play them frequently, so I was not eager to join in the Mario Kart craze. But they continued to ask, so I gave in.

As expected, I was terrible. I could see the rainbow road clearly, but every turn to the left or the right was completely out of control. My car would hit one side, I’d quickly correct, and then watch my car ricochet off the other side. This went on for a few seconds before I eventually fell off the road completely. Over and over again this happened. My kids offered their advice, but my driving remained the same. It was chaotic, and not very fun.

I retired from Mario Kart.

Occasionally, I watched my kids play the game without me. There was finesse in their movements. Small, calculated tilts of their steering wheel led to smooth turns and skilled driving. I was fascinated.

I started thinking about my life in general, and my tendency to live the way I drove in Mario Kart.

When I first got my hands on the Harry Potter books, I was all in. Despite being the mother of a one-year-old little girl, I stayed up all night reading. When I finished the first book, I immediately started the second. I ignored my apartment, the dishes, and even my daughter. Dinnertime came and went, and I couldn’t stop reading. Sleep was optional at this point. After reading the first three books, I didn’t have access to the fourth and I was forced to stop. Like coming out of anesthesia, I became aware of my surroundings again. I looked at the mess I had completely ignored for days. I was exhausted, embarrassed, and full of shame. I couldn’t believe how engrossed I had become in Harry Potter. I was determined to do better! I bathed my little girl, got some groceries, and started living my life again. I also swore off reading. No more! My latest obsession was now my kryptonite. My life in extremes continued.

I could see this cycle repeat in how I read books, how I cleaned, how I ate, how I approached hobbies, how I parented, how I did almost everything. The swinging from one extreme to the other gave me whiplash.

In the last year, I’ve thought a lot about Mario Kart and my driving. The crazy side-to-side ricochets and my very brief jaunts on the rainbow road led to no progress in the game. I never finished one race. Never. My own life was looking similar. I was not making progress toward anything. I just plowed this way and that, obsessing about this new thing, and then on to something else. I wanted a less extreme way to be. I remembered how my kids turned the wheel. Their movements were small and precise. They maneuvered their cars so well and finished the race.

So what do I do now?

Small and precise.

Small and precise.

I try to make one small change in one area and stick to it. I read books, but I schedule time on my calendar to do it. I tell myself how long I’m going to read, and then I do that. No more literary all-nighters followed by sleep-deprived days. I’m far from perfect, but my life is looking less extreme now, and I’m pretty happy about it.