DAY 47: Hostage

There’s a strong rule in the “dieting guide book” which refers to sleeping on a full stomach.  We’ve all heard the reasoning of your body’s unwillingness to digest a heavy meal; it’s much healthier to relieve the stomach of any burden before hibernation.  In fact, “eating before sleeping” is a cardinal sin, metamorphosing the body into a giant marshmallow.

With the fear of gaining weight buried within my subconscious, I decided to abstain from my mother-in-law’s Greek shortbread and retire for the evening with a glass of cold water, and a palm-full of sunflower seeds.

Submerged within a cloud of cotton and fleece, I surrendered my final minutes to the android on my nightstand, surfing through any last bit of news from the YouTube channel.  What seized my attention was the trailer for a 2008 Irish history documentary titled Hostage. In an instant flash, I was transported back to a comment I once made out of sheer desperation, to resolve my morbid obesity.  I often hoped for my own hostage drama, where a group of abductors would kidnap me, provide one meal of bread and water (daily), and isolate me from the world until such time I could emerge as a handsome runway model. 

But the real world reminds me that I am a hostage to another captor which continues to interrogate me.

I woke up in the middle of the night, listening to the grumbling chorus of The Three Tenors.  After a long-term absence, Hansel and Gretel returned to the scene reminding me that assistance was needed; an awful unmelodiousness emerged from my stomach, pleading persistently to be comforted by the joys of Greek shortbread or any high calorie treat.

I deliberated on the thought of fulfilling their deceitful desires until I closed my eyes and resumed my sleeping programme.

Friday has once again graced us with its presence.  There’s a cheerful aura in the workplace as my colleagues gear up for a long weekend; Monday will see the start of Lent, and most of Cyprus will head to the coast for a celebratory barbeque of grilled fish, fried honey balls drenched in syrup, and competitive games involving kite flying.

Green Monday inspires the faithful to embark on a forty-day abstinence of meat and dairy products.  The thought of eliminating two vital ingredients from my already deprived programme, has encouraged a new hostage drama; hopefully this year, I will see positive results.

Weight for me tomorrow. Paul

Paul Lambis is the author of “Where is Home?” – A journey of hilarious contrasts.  For more information on Paul Lambis, and to order his book online,
visit www.paul-lambis.com

DAY 46: Good News

Most of my readers will acknowledge (through my blog) that I have been waiting for that special moment which will modify my course in history.  I’m a firm believer that every one of us – irrespective of colour, religion, sexual orientation, political beliefs – is destined for great things.  

I embraced my morning with good news; a cloud of white smoke announced that a new pope was appointed to lead the faithful, the BBC aired a programme on Oscar Pistorius –highlighting the disastrous crime rate in South Africa, the bathroom scale reflected my loss of ten kilograms, and a phone call from an accredited individual offered me the opportunity of a lifetime…

As much as I would like to share my rainbow of optimistic news, I have been asked to uphold a vow of silence until such time when I can demonstrate my operatic gift in public.

On the opposite side of the fence, I’ve noticed that the infamous 89-year-old Robert Mugabe is appealing to the youth, ahead of the country’s elections.  The younger generation feel that Mugabe’s long-winded speeches and empty promises have reached a stalemate; a new game plan is long overdue.

Justin Bieber’s recent erratic behaviour exposes him as an arrogant, spoiled menace whose iconic status seriously needs to be re-evaluated.  The Canadian pop star’s string of antics could signal that the singer is falling victim to the pressures of fame. The constant praise and a lack of realistic self-reflection can often lead celebrities to disconnect with reality, including knowing how to behave, according to psychologists and others in the entertainment business.  Someone throw him a lifebuoy…

The afternoon’s agenda includes an indefinite relaxation period on the couch.  Prior to that, I’m considering an energetic walk by the harbour, a low-fat Starbucks coffee, and a possible meeting with friends.  It’s exactly one week today from my birthday, and the last year before I close four decades on this planet.  Here’s to making it count…

Weight for me tomorrow. Paul

Paul Lambis is the author of “Where is Home?” – A journey of hilarious contrasts.  For more information on Paul Lambis, and to order his book online,
visit www.paul-lambis.com

DAY 45: The Impossible

Every fortnight, our home is revitalised by the unique services of Mary – a Sri Lankan woman who arrived in Cyprus looking for work.  A humble and quaint individual, Mary perseveres through her chores, spreading her magical touch throughout the house. 

Over the years, Mary has become a member of our family unit, caring for our home as if it were her own, tending to our tailored-needs, and contributing in her own unique way for almost everything else.  

Mary has always entered our home with a glowing smile, projecting a beam of happiness; but beneath her upbeat exterior, there’s a heart-warming story of one woman’s struggle to recreate a home for her family after the devastating tsunami of 2004 swallowed all of her material possessions, including her humble beachside cottage.

When Mary arrived in Cyprus in 2005, she was a penniless farm girl who answered a classified advert for an “optimistic work future abroad.”  Having appreciated the joy of her new-born child for a mere four months, Mary boarded an aeroplane for Cyprus, knowing that the sooner she embarked on her own rebirth process, the quicker she could return home and provide all the necessities her family had once known.

After eight years on the island of Cyprus, Mary has announced her intentions to return to her home in Sri Lanka, and to finally reunite with her husband and children after a tiresome, yet rewarding gap.

She continues to smile as she enters our home through the front door; her elevated energy levels are evident as she chants an optimistic tune while going about her work.  Her husband, an experienced and hardworking carpenter, has established a new home for her, purchased a second-hand vehicle, and built Mary a small business to further her talent in dress-making.

When we visited London in January, we stopped off at the Odeon on Shaftesbury Avenue, and watched the movie The Impossible.  This outstanding drama is based on one family’s journey of hope and survival, following the aftermath of the tsunami in Thailand.  After a gripping two hours of suspense and emotional rollercoaster rides, I was determined to return to Cyprus and ask Mary to describe her experiences of that horrific day.

As Mary transported us back to that fateful morning, I could sense a small element of horror when she referred to the “distant noise” hurriedly becoming a “roar.” 

“The only thing that went through my mind was my children.”

After our deep and powerful discussion, Mary’s account of the tsunami proved to me that whatever I considered “impossible,” was due to fear, obstructing my thoughts.  Fear was continuously blocking my mind from my own determination and willingness to achieve the “impossible.” 

Mary’s perseverance reassured me that with sacrifice comes an epoch of contentment.  I was in the presence of a dynamic woman who had sectioned off eight years of her life to ensure her family’s survival. 

And all I had to do was isolate myself from overindulging for one year to ensure my own survival; challenging yes, but hardly impossible.

Weight for me tomorrow. Paul

Paul Lambis is the author of “Where is Home?” – A journey of hilarious contrasts.  For more information on Paul Lambis, and to order his book online,
visit www.paul-lambis.com

DAY 44: Crisis

In the Old Testament, the Book of Job begins with an introduction to Job's character – he is described as a blessed man who lives righteously. God's praise of Job prompts Satan to challenge Job's integrity and suggesting that Job serves God simply because he protects him. God removes Job's protection, allowing Satan to take his wealth, his children, and his physical health in order to tempt Job to curse God.

Despite his difficult circumstances, he does not curse God, but rather curses the day of his birth. And although he protests his plight and pleads for an explanation, he stops short of accusing God of injustice.

Most of the book consists of conversations between Job and his three friends concerning Job's condition and its possible reasons, after which God responds to Job and his friends, opening his speech with the famous words, "Brace yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer me."

After God's reply, Job is overwhelmed and says, "I am unworthy – how can I reply to you? I put my hand over my mouth."

Many interpretations read this as Job's realising how little he knew when he says to the Lord, "My ears had heard of you, but now my eyes have seen you."  Other scholars and readers, however, find this explanation unsatisfactory, since the problem of Job (the innocent man suffering at the hand of Satan) is not addressed. Job's response to God shows none of the anger, passion, or piety he demonstrated in the rest of the story, even when God does not give Job the direct answer he has demanded for much of the book. Then Job is restored to an even better condition than his former wealthy state.

Last night, as I finally retired from an eventful marathon of television shows, I lay on my bed thinking of the past and my current economic condition.  Admittedly, I was overwhelmed with a bout of self-pity, as my mind wandered off in multiple directions in search for my safety net.  I thought of my car accident, and the six months of hospital confinement; the overwhelming cost of having to transform a home into an obstacle course of handrails and ramps.  I must have drifted off into a temporary state of darkness, as a whirlpool of light pulled me back to reality when my wife applied her daily treatment of natural oils and creams, massaging the ointments into my leg – soothing the pain from the lymphedema.

Without any hint of ungratefulness, I was indebted to my Spiritual Father for sparing my life, and rewarding me an extension of time with my family.  I was willing to overlook all the disabilities which reminded me of that fateful afternoon, but lately, it seems that those incapacities have protracted their wings into my bank account, leaving me slightly penniless for all my obligations and extravagances.

I may not project the same strength as Job, or his tolerance of patience, but unfortunately I spent the last five minutes in bed questioning God’s motives, and even presence.  It was a brief moment of doubt – my personal crisis which translated to “fear of the unknown.”  Forgive me Father.

I’m not looking for a handsome lottery package – although one would be welcomed with open arms, moreover I am searching for a sense of security – one that will grant me economic freedom and an open road to continue a dieting programme – stress-free.

My only appeal to my Heavenly Father is that He realises my own plight, and rewards me accordingly.  Needless to say, if my fortune is more than I need, there will definitely be an early visit from Santa for those who really need it.

Weight for me tomorrow. Paul

Paul Lambis is the author of “Where is Home?” – A journey of hilarious contrasts.  For more information on Paul Lambis, and to order his book online,
visit www.paul-lambis.com

DAY 43: Seventh Heaven

I started my morning on a positive note, reminding my wife of my regular Monday evening appointment in front of the giant screen in our living room.  Tonight’s line-up includes the anticipated return of the Revenge saga, The Walking Dead, and the season finale of Mr Selfridge.  It’s going to be another late night – a repeat of Sunday’s schedule; I cemented my body to the couch last night, following an eight-part miniseries on the life of Edward II.

I noticed the state of the living room this morning as I made my way down the stairs, heading to the kitchen.  Remnants of last night’s binging flurry and empty mugs of tea scattered around the coffee table, reminded me of my eight hour immobility.  My wife was beginning to clear the evidence, referring to my slothfulness and the unforgivable state of the house. 

I returned to the kitchen, listening to her repeated echo as she persevered through her list of grievances and complaints.

I reached for my bowl of bran flakes – tucking into the crunchy blend of dried fruit and sunflower seeds, coated with a delightful stream of low fat milk. I was drifting into seventh heaven, identifying with the woman on the cereal box; her eyes were closed as she embraced a spoonful of bran into her mouth, suggesting some type of food orgy.

But reality entered the room holding a garbage bag and a mouthful of requirements (in high definition) – implying that my ignorance would encourage total damnation.

I found it difficult to focus through my arduous tasks at work, as the image of my wife constantly flashed through my subconscious, instilling a painful feeling of guilt.  I could see her standing before me, garbage bag in hand, as she pleaded for assistance with the tedious housework chores.

Admittedly, I surrendered to this guilt, and decided to make her life easier.

It’s going to be a wonderful evening of entertainment; I’ve just called my wife informing her that yesterday’s leftovers will suffice, freeing up her time to join me as we kick-start the evening’s festivities, earlier than scheduled.

Weight for me tomorrow. Paul

Paul Lambis is the author of “Where is Home?” – A journey of hilarious contrasts.  For more information on Paul Lambis, and to order his book online,
visit www.paul-lambis.com

DAY 42: Walk for Life

One of the benefits of living on the “island of love,” is the splendid fact that the coast is a short drive away.  In fact, most people who visit my home on the outskirts of Pafos, express envy as their eyes lock onto my panoramic view of the town and sea.

I’ve been patiently waiting for the warm Mediterranean sun to grace us with its presence, marking the start of spring.  The swimming pool is showing small hints of winter – the odd rust-coloured leaves floating along the surface, as the light showers of the cold season embrace the water, waving goodbye.

Both my wife and son are wonderful swimmers, and the pool in the summer becomes a central meeting place after an exhausting day at work. 

Our morning started off early – untypical of our normal Sunday lie-ins. We all bounced energetically out of comfort zones, omitting the swimming pool (due to the chilling weather), and headed off to the coast to greet the day as an active and exercise-driven family.  My son continued to ride his bike as my wife and I followed the path from the lighthouse reaching the medieval castle on the opposite end. 

It was a glorious time to reflect on the beauty of our wonderful island, at the same time expressing an immense gratitude that we were all together. 

Our stimulating venture encouraged a new outlook on life; motivational, inspiring and refreshing.  My emotional cries of joy inspired a re-birth, summoning the salt of the sea within my lungs, exploring a forgotten ocean of happiness.  Amidst the madness brought on by life’s struggles, I was able to unleash an explosion of positive energy, identifying a new, carefree world – one that made life worth living.

We’ve decided to repeat our new discovery; my wife and son are eager to acquire that same spout of energy received from our morning walk, and I am equally overjoyed at the possibility of changing my attitude and losing weight through my new walk for life.

Weight for me tomorrow. Paul

Paul Lambis is the author of “Where is Home?” – A journey of hilarious contrasts.  For more information on Paul Lambis, and to order his book online,
visit www.paul-lambis.com

DAY 41: Saturday Night Fever

What we choose to do with our weekends is entirely up to us.  Admittedly, my Saturdays and Sundays have allowed me the opportunity to eliminate those unfinished tasks dangling on my pending list.  It’s a terrible routine, but if I did not utilise these two opportune days, I would kick-start my Mondays with a severe headache.

Despite the casual characteristics which define these two days, there is also a dark side which invites a stream of temptations into the home; Saturday morning’s ritual is synonymous with Friday, but as midday sneaks in, a wave of temptations and cravings follow through.  We scrounge around the house looking for a yummy treat that will please the grumbling monster in our stomachs. 

Unmindful of the harm produced, we naively continue into the late afternoon, supressing the pains with chocolate cookies and a generous tub of caramel coated popcorn.

Retreating to the couch in a self-inflicted coma, we pursue our obsessive eating disorders well into the night, as the evening’s entertainment inspires a new wave of subconscious eating: your hand moves rhythmically in a robotic fashion, transporting a salted sensation of crisps from bowl to mouth.  Catatonically, one is unaware that the body is shivering from exhaustion – encouraging a new type of Saturday Night Fever – one that includes an hour in the bathroom with an unforgivable volcanic eruption.  Forgive my crudeness.

So how does one balance work and play? I believe it’s up to the individual to draw the line – identifying when to stop.  Round up the family for an entertaining board game or an exhilarating visit to the movies.  Plan a get-together with a warm group of friends, or even suggest a daring evening of bumper cars and rollercoaster rides.  If I surrender my emotions to an unlawful lifestyle, prioritising work and emotional eating over what really matters, more than likely I’ll wake up one morning realising it’s too late.

Weight for me tomorrow. Paul

Paul Lambis is the author of “Where is Home?” – A journey of hilarious contrasts.  For more information on Paul Lambis, and to order his book online,
visit www.paul-lambis.com