Archives for posts with tag: familiarity

I slept in, like, properly slept in, waking a couple hours later than I ordinarily would, feeling well rested, and ready for a new day. Being home feels good.

A familiar view from a favorite trail.

My legs ache. It’s just sore muscles, from recent days of more than usual walking. I mostly ignore it, and walk on. The blue skies of recent days have yielded to encroaching gray clouds gathering overhead. The air feels heavy with higher than typical humidity. I keep on walking, through oak groves and alongside meadows and vineyards. I pass by a creek, and lush dense weeds and wildflowers that grow along the banks, edged by trees. Farm workers in the vineyard eye me warily as I pass. I wave. They wave back. We have nothing to fear from each other. I continue walking.

It was an ordinary walk on an ordinary morning. I hope I have many such walks (and mornings) ahead of me. Gray skies or blue, the details matter less than my ability to walk on, and my freedom and opportunity to do so.

I sit quietly after my walk, on a convenient picnic table tucked among the oaks trees that line the beginning of this particular trail. It’s not remote or exotic, and lacks any sort of features that might attract crowds. It’s just a convenient local trail, well maintained, paved and mostly level, and even lit in some sections (which is nice for very early mornings before sunrise). It feels safe and familiar, and long enough to be satisfying (it’s about a mile and a half all the way around), but short enough to be quite manageable even when I’m having some difficulties. This trail is rarely crowded, which is a nice bonus.

My tinnitus is annoyingly loud in my ears. I do my best to focus on other things. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It is a pleasant morning and I am happy to be home. I remind myself to stop at the store on my way home, but can’t recall what I need to get. I chuckle to myself; I have an app for that. I probably rely on that too much.

I sigh contentedly, savoring this pleasant moment before I begin again. The clock is ticking on a new day. It’ll soon be time to begin again…

Where does this path lead? What will I see along the way?

I drove to the trailhead this morning thinking about how far away this once seemed, although it now feels quite close to home. It’s become a familiar drive, and is also the approximate halfway point on my morning commute when I work in the office. Those details don’t change the distance in miles, nor do they alter the time it takes to make the drive, but what a difference in perceived distance and inconvenience!

I got to the trailhead still thinking about time and distance and the differences in perception perspective on a journey can make. A very long walk often only feels long when it is new and unfamiliar, seeming to grow shorter over time as walking it becomes commonplace. Funny how that works…

I walked down the trail in the pre-dawn darkness, thinking my thoughts. I came upon a good stopping point after what seemed a long while; I’ve been walking a different trail here, but with all the recent rain, only the “all season” trail is actually walkable now. The change in trail is a change in perspective, and perceived distance. I was still sore from yesterday’s walk, this morning, too; it has more hills and felt like a somewhat more challenging workout. This morning feels like a serious effort, and a bit “too far” though a look at my step counter and the trail map tells me there’s very little difference. Perspective.

I sit quietly, writing, enjoying the quiet. It feels colder this morning, though the temperature is the same as it was yesterday, maybe even a degree warmer if I trust my recollection. My legs and back ache, and my discomfort sets me up to “feel the cold” more, perhaps.

Repetition and familiarity create an experience of “ease”, and what seems easy also seems to require less time, or amount to less distance. Practice changes our perception of difficulty. Just something I am thinking about as the new year approaches. Want to get good at something? Practice. Want something to feel easy? Practice. Want some particular skill or response to become “second nature”? Practice. Do the verbs. Do them again. Do them better. Do them over. Keep practicing.

… Fuck I wish I didn’t ache like this though…

I laugh to myself and shake off my irritation with the pain I’m often in; it would be much worse if I gave up on the walking. I know this from experience. Experience also brings perspective. The journey is the destination. The longer I walk my path, the easier it may feel, and the more I may understand. (I say “may” because there are damned few guarantees or certainties in a human lifetime, and a lot of verbs required, and my results do vary.)

I begin to notice the chill a bit more in the darkness. I see a hint of daybreak in the blue gray of the eastern horizon. I can make out the path without my the headlamp now. I guess it’s a good time to begin again – with new perspective.