I am enjoying having my preferred route to work [on foot] through the park back. I don’t think I understood how much it matters to my experience – my commute, generally, I mean. It is more than simply a means of arriving at work on time that is more pleasant than the harrowing commuter traffic on the roads at rush hour; in principle I have nothing against long commutes, and I have had quite a few. Time and again in life I have returned to the experience of being close enough to walk to work, and found it to be a more satisfying experience on a number of levels. It makes a difference where that walk takes me, though, and this is something I had not understood with sufficient clarity before this experience of having a walk I greatly enjoy taken from me for some time, and then returned to me. I have more information (about me) and deeper perspective (on how I enjoy my experience and what matters most to me).

Walking a favorite path.

I find that the walk itself is very productive cognitive time, whether I spend it meditating, problem solving, or day dreaming. It always feels ‘fast enough’, too, even on days when I am frequently distracted by things I see and want to take a picture along the way. In spite of feeling fast enough, it doesn’t feel rushed, or hurried; it’s actually pretty difficult to rush myself, or feel hurried, on foot. When I am walking from place to place, the world must wait for me. That’s a pace I can comfortably sustain – for a lifetime.

Beauty, perspective, and a few moments to think.

I took my time today, and I have treated myself well. Gently. With great respect, appreciation, and tenderness – and why not? I do so much for me! Besides, I’m right here, every day, handy for helping out with the ongoing process of learning to treat others truly well, also. I practice on me – because I’m certainly worthy of my best care (without me, where would I be?). It’s been a lovely day, and after a chilly walk home on a crisp autumn evening, a hot shower was quite splendid – far beyond what a few minutes of soap and warm water are generally expected to be, honestly. The apartment is warming up; I smile reminded that my traveling partner was right about the thermostat and happy that I already ordered it. Dinner next, that seems sensible.

As I sit and write, music in the background, I pause to reflect for a moment on how much more natural so many small basic self-care things feel now. Almost easy. I chuckle silently; I know from experience that if I stop practicing some good practice or another, however worthy and helpful, the habit of it will quickly be extinguished (thanks, TBI!), and I might even forget it had been a useful practice – maybe, just maybe, being reminded somehow, some time later, that it had been something I used to do I could then begin again. lol I keep practicing practices – and incremental change over time continues. My emotional quality of life is considerably improved over two years ago, and even my physical health seems more reliably good, much of the time. It’s a chilly autumn evening, and life is more good than bad – and I am content more often than I am not. That’s a nice bit of improvement right there. 🙂

I smile, thinking of things and people, and experiencing a tender moment of… ‘global well-wishing’? Something like that. It’s a nice evening to treat myself well. If you were here with me, I would treat you well, too. Why not?