Beginnings are pretty easy. I enjoy a beginning. Momentum can be difficult to sustain, though, and practices do need practicing. Failures are a thing human beings have to deal with. Beginnings come in handy as a way to follow-up on a failure. Just begin again. Ideally having learned from that failure, of course; it’s not super helpful to repeat the same failure and learn nothing from it. lol Steps on a path though; every beginning, every failure, every new attempt, each practice practiced takes us further on down the path we’ve chosen. Walk on.
Where does this path lead?
…I love a good metaphor…
The path isn’t always easy. It’s not always paved or level, it won’t always have convenient points at which to stop to catch your breath, it won’t always be illuminated, and sometimes – often – there’s no map to guide you. It’s a complicated journey in that sense, but in another very practical way it is as simple as taking another step. Incremental change over time is reliable, just slow. We do become what we practice – whatever we practice. 😀
I breathe, exhale, and relax. My walk was short today; there was a somewhat sketchy stranger on the trail, and I let my discomfort guide me back to the car a little early. Safety matters. The day stretches ahead of me, mostly unexamined and so far utterly routine. Just a day in a life. I’m okay with that. Working from home means taking my breaks in the garden, and I’m looking forward to it. First though? Coffee. Then? Then I’ll begin again. 😀
Just as I reached the trailhead the rain began. It’s not falling hard, but steadily. I waited a few minutes before yielding to the practical details of walking in the rain, and just did the thing. Boots, cane, rain poncho: I’m ready for it, so why not? My aching back yesterday is no surprise now; my arthritis reliably responds to specific changes in the weather. I ache today, too, and I am cross and moody, even out on the trail.
I started walking, and kept walking until I returned to the car, not soaked but finding myself struggling with pain and irritability. Less than ideally pleasant as morning walks go, and more a matter of will and practice than delight. It’s okay. There’s nothing really wrong and this crappy mood will pass.
Tedious discussion of health stuff follows, skip this next paragraph if it’s “tmi”!
I breathe, exhale, and relax. It is “shot day”. Sunday is the day I’ve set for my weekly Ozempic shot and my weigh-in. Actual weight loss progress is very slow now after an initial 8 months or so of fairly steady losses. Here’s the thing though; I’m using it to control other health conditions and it’s doing that exceedingly well (I’ve been able to discontinue medications aside from my thyroid and pain medication). I’m continuing strength training, and building muscle (heavier than fat) along with having gotten very near the weight my current caloric intake supports means it’s harder to change the number on the scale – but that’s an inadequate measure of health improvements overall, and I try not to fret over it. Instead I seek to walk further, faster, and to continue to advance my weight training (ideally without injury). I consider additional calorie reduction, at this point it’s probably necessary. I’m not unhappy with my progress, generally, just saying that the Ozempic is not a magic trick, a cheat code, or a guarantee of getting to a size 6 again. It’s just a tool and a means of dealing with my problematic blood sugar that happens to also improve my health in a number of ways.
I check the grocery list. Practical stuff, and healthy foods and ingredients, nothing to trim from the list, it’s all good stuff. It’s easier to commit to healthy eating when everyone in the house is in on it. I’m fortunate in that regard. It still requires practice, and attention to details – and a measure of will and impulse control.
I sigh to myself and think about my birthday in June. What sort of “birthday cake” might I enjoy? Cheesecake? A fruit tart? Something creamy? Something light? Definitely not chocolate – too rich, and too dense, it’s just not my favorite. Something fruity might be nice… Something not too dreadfully sweet. Sugar isn’t so appealing these days. Maybe something subtle and a little “fancy”? Lemon-y and spongey and creamy with a hint of lavender or blueberries? Something like that might be nice… but I’d probably be the only one enjoying that. lol My thoughts wander on… and I’m feeling less irritated just indulging the thought of birthday desserts. Human beings are strange creatures.
Looks like it may be a cloudy, rainy day all day. I guess I’m okay with that; there’s considerable housekeeping to do today. I smile to myself thinking about the two small hardy fig plants I planted in large pots yesterday. Eventually I may put them in the ground, if they are truly suited to our climate, but I don’t yet know where. It’ll be a couple years before it really matters, and I’m delighted to have the figs in my garden; I’ve wanted fig trees or bushes since my first garden. It’s to do with a lovely memory of my Granny and my first experience of fresh from the tree sun-warmed figs. I smile. Pleasant memories are a beautiful mood-lifter.
I frown a little impatiently at the foreboding gray sky. I guess it’s time to begin again.
The sun is up as I return to the car. I’m at a less frequented trailhead tucked away on the far side of the nature park. Different approach to the park, different views (more meadow than marsh), and that provides me with a different perspective.
A meadow of fragrant wildflowers.
I’ve been feeling a bit “stuck” now and then, recently, especially with regard to my fitness progress. Realistically, I know “the math”, and the basic truth of it is that I need to get more exercise and cut back on caloric intake (without reducing nutritional value). Such easy words to put on a page. Harder to live them in practice, primarily because I’m living with chronic pain, have some underlying metabolic concerns that complicate things by drastically reducing the amount of energy I can reliably make use of in a given day. Those things don’t prevent me from making progress over time, they just tend to slow me down and discourage me. File under “adulting is hard”. lol
I’m not complaining. Just saying these are real circumstances and sometimes I feel “stuck”. I often find a change of perspective very helpful for getting “un-stuck”, and so this morning I followed a favorite trail from a different direction, at a different starting point, and walked my difficult miles from a different perspective. Helpful.
A different point of view is sometimes the only difference needed.
I walked along as the sun rose, listening to the noisy robins in the meadow grass, and the geese calling to each other overhead. The air was filled with the scent of Spring flowers.
The sun rising beyond a grove in the meadow.
Feeling stuck? Maybe it will be helpful to change your point of view, to adjust your perspective in some way, even if only as a matter of taking a different route to a familiar destination? I know I find it helpful, and almost without noticing, I find myself walking farther at a faster pace (in spite of stops to snap a picture or two along the way). Sometimes beginning again is more effective if we begin from a different starting point, or heading in a new direction, or by entirely changing our approach to a challenge or journey. Your results may vary, but if you’re feeling stuck, isn’t that the desired effect?
Where does your path lead? What is beyond the next bend?
My Traveling Partner suggested, out of love and a desire to be helpful, that maybe I should consider using an elliptical machine at a nearby gym, or some lower-impact means of getting more miles in. It’s an idea I’ve considered (and tried), but I thoroughly dislike the gym environment and the mindless tedium of walking a treadmill to the point that I just don’t stick with it. It’s not a good choice of practice for me, generally. I’m willing – even eager – to be out on a trail at dawn walking a couple miles, happily alone with my thoughts, feeling the moment, enjoying the sights, and I do it day after day, without a miss. It’s time to pick up the pace, though, and challenge myself to go further more often. It’s time to increase my “non-negotiable distance” from 1 mile to two, then from 2 to three. It’s time to spend less time meditating at some beautiful halfway point, and more of my time steadily on my feet. (This is where my thoughts were as I walked this morning.)
Reflections and mist.
I breathe, exhale, and relax. I guess I needed a change of perspective (and a change of direction). I certainly feel less stuck, sitting with my thoughts after my walk, feeling my muscles relax, and my heart beat slowing down as I write. There’s an entire day ahead of me and a couple of errands to run. The clock is ticking – it’s time to begin again.
I’m sitting quietly at the trailhead, waiting for the sun. The car parked behind me is rather annoyingly playing their radio loud. Talk radio. Super annoying. I mean, I sure don’t care that they’re passing the time listening to their radio, but for real? Turn that crap down so no one else has to listen. I’m not here for that.
I sigh quietly and think about what it takes to “find peace”. It isn’t really a “finding”, is it? It’s more of a creating, building, and sustaining. There are verbs involved, rather a lot of them. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I focus on me, and this quiet moment. I listen to the passing cars on the highway. I chuckle when I think about “instant pudding” as an analogy. The point being that it isn’t actually “instant”, at all – just pretty quick, and relatively easy. (It’s also not very good.) I sit with that thought awhile.
My thoughts wander to my Traveling Partner, and I wonder if he finally managed to get some good sleep? He’s been progressively reducing the dosage on medications he’s working on discontinuing, and the process sometimes leaves him restless, cross, or unable to rest (or all of those things together). What a shitty experience! Night after restless night… I often wake briefly when he wakes, but last night the only thing waking me was myself, when I changed positions and inadvertently wrapped my CPAP hose around myself awkwardly.
The first hint of daybreak begins to light the edge of the eastern horizon; a new day. I sigh contentedly and, grateful to move away from the noise of the parked car behind me, I drive through the now-open gate, up the hill and park there instead. Time to swap soft shoes for supportive boots, and grab my cane. My knees have been giving me grief recently, and my ankle aches with every step more often than not. I don’t risk the walk without the cane these days. I’m still walking, though, and I am grateful.
I think of the powerful lesson of my late Dear Friend’s example; walking can prove to be a regretfully “use it or lose it” sort of thing, and over time, she lost her ability to walk with any ease, which discouraged her and caused her to walk less (and shorter distances), which caused the situation to worsen. That’s an oversimplification, and surely there’s more to it than that. Aging. Injury. Illness. Nonetheless, I think of her often, and our conversations about the lasting value of “staying on my feet”, and the very real risk if I were to stop walking. I keep walking, in spite of pain.
I lace up my boots, sighing and resenting the pain I’m in, as I stare at the smudgy beginning of this morning’s sunrise. I “turn my head wrong” and my headache reminds me rather quickly how rarely it’s not there. Fuck this headache. I’m grateful that I have an appointment for some care of my neck, later this morning. I know it helps.
I think about my Traveling Partner again, and hope that he’s sleeping. No good morning ping, yet. Rare for this time of morning, recently, and it seems an encouraging sign… but it could just mean he’s awake and grumpy as fuck and just not wanting to interact at all. Maybe he’s up, but only long enough to take medication before going back to bed? I wonder, and the wondering serves as an excuse to think longer about my beloved, though I don’t really need an excuse.
I sigh and stretch and look towards the horizon. It’s definitely time to begin again.
It’s a new day. The sunrise has started. The trail ahead is revealed. The morning air is sweet with the scent of meadow grasses and wildflowers. The weather is pleasant and the temperature mild. It is, to be brief, a beautiful summer morning.
A new beginning.
I could have started down the trail earlier, but chose instead to sit quietly for a little while, enjoying this lovely moment. Worth it. It’s not that anything particularly noteworthy or interesting happened, quite the contrary; it’s just a pleasant quiet moment. Still, it’s been a very nice way to enjoy it, simply to sit quietly and be.
A lovely moment.
I put on my boots feeling relaxed, refreshed, and uplifted. The sunrise inspires me. Perhaps I will paint today, between loads of laundry? No grand agenda in mind, and the day ahead has no firm plan. It’s a long weekend, too, suitable for hanging out with my Traveling Partner and enjoying our precious all-to-brief mortal lives together. Maybe some gardening? I smile, feeling at ease and comfortable in my skin.
Breathe, exhale, relax.
I hit the trail happily with a goal in mind. 5 miles. Seems a good morning for it. The trail is not crowded yet. The sky flares boldly with shades of orange, peach, and pink, with hints of soft mauve and lavender. My mind visits my pastel box on the sly, recalling colors I have that would be useful to capture this colorful sunrise. I sigh contentedly and walk on.
So many colors, but can I capture a sunrise?
At the halfway point of my walk, I sit with my thoughts, looking out across the summer meadow. In winter, much of this broad meadow becomes marsh, and the migrating birds have it to themselves. I enjoy the view in all the seasons. I have not always been able to get this far down this trail. It’s very satisfying when I do, and worth stopping to enjoy the view – and the achievement. Someone else might not think this relatively modest success truly amounts to an “achievement”, I get it, but… I am living my experience, not theirs. lol
… Our small joys matter too, savor them!
I remind myself to be kind to people. I can’t really know what they might be going through, or how hard life is for them. It costs me nothing to be kind, it only requires consideration and practice. The “payoff” in goodwill (and a feeling of decency and civility) is very much worth the modest effort required.
I meditate for some little while, until I hear voices coming down the trail. I stand and stretch and prepare to finish my walk. The journey is the destination. It’s time to begin again.
Evening Light 