Archives for posts with tag: walk on

We’ve all got to walk our own mile. Sometimes it is a difficult journey. Sometimes we’re fortunate enough to share some portion of the journey with other travelers. The company we keep matters. A lot. Walking a difficult path alone may be a better choice than sharing the journey with those who wish you ill ( or even those who simply don’t care whether you stumble).

The way ahead may not be obvious. Conditions may be bleak.

I’ve never understood why someone would choose an unforgiving path in the company of the hostile, mean-spirited, cruel, or other ill-intentioned souls on life’s journey. Sometimes we happen upon such folk, our paths may cross, but why choose to endure miles shared alongside them? What value does it add beyond painful lessons learned? Won’t circumstances deliver enough of that without seeking it out?

Isn’t being alone and walking a solitary mile better than sharing the journey with someone who would mistreat you?

Walk on. Choose the company you keep with care.

It can be a cold and unforgiving journey without also sharing your hard miles with those who wish you ill, or who would misuse your gracious presence for their own ends.

We’ve all got to walk our own mile, whatever the weather. (It’s a metaphor.)

My steps on the trail make a crunching sound as I walk over what’s left of the snow. I feel the snow compress and yield beneath my weight with each step further.  The air is clean and crisp, and feels strangely warm for 36°F. I feel comfortable in my warm sweater and my fleece. My steps feel purposeful as I walk through the fog along the marsh trail. Daybreak has come and the gray of the foggy morning changes hue. No colorful sunrise this morning. I have the trail to myself and I walk with my solitary thoughts, content to be alone.

I am grateful for a partnership that gives me such easy freedom to embrace solitary joy. My Traveling Partner has a standing invitation to join me on my morning walks, any time. (He’s more of an afternoon walk in the sunshine guy.) He doesn’t grudge me this solitary joy, and isn’t inclined to be out here on the foggy winter trail. I’m grateful to share the journey with such an understanding traveler.

My thoughts accompany me through the oak trees along the trail…

My thoughts wander. I smile recalling a time when I wore a favorite T-shirt that said “I don’t f* mean people” – and it was true then, and is still true now. I mean, why would I? Why would anyone? Isn’t it better to be alone? It’s a question I ask myself often, because I see so many people who seem uncomfortable with solitude. I don’t understand that, at all. Even my inner demons are better company than mean-spirited, cruel, or petty people. (I enjoy my own company quite a lot.)

Winter oaks, a foggy trail, and solitude.

I get back to the warmth of the car. Write a few words and reflect awhile on the quiet joy of a solitary mile in my own good company. The company we keep on this journey matters a lot. If you find you’d rather endure ill-intentioned companions than spend your time alone, that may be something worth reflecting on. You could be your own best friend. You could even walk a joyful solitary mile instead of enduring an unforgiving path in poorly chosen company. Isn’t it worth thinking about?

I breathe, exhale, and relax, sitting with my solitary thoughts, contentedly. It’s enough. I find quiet joy in this moment of solitude.

It has been worth it to step off the unforgiving path to walk a very different mile in well-chosen company – or solitude. Worth it to begin again.

What delights and excites you? There’s a lot of variety in human experience. Me? I like walking. Trails, sidewalks, new paths: I like to walk with my thoughts, seeing things along the way.

Today is Superbowl Sunday. I only know this because I’m interested in the halftime performer this year. I don’t watch (or care about) football. Lots of people do, though. My Dad did. My Mom reliably watched with him, but I don’t know whether she really enjoyed the game the way he did.

Some people like other sports, and there are many. Some people enjoy a sport enough to watch “the big game”, or some playoff or particular matchup between specific teams, but nothing more. Some people enjoy the ferocity of competition and shit-talking, and take things pretty personally, while others are more interested in some human interest details. Some people enjoy gathering together to party and share the excitement, and it’s not really about the game at all.

There are people who passionately follow a team or particular players, and people who memorize all the stats. There are people who collect collectibles and memorabilia, and eagerly hope to hold a signed game ball in their hands or add a particular numbered item to their collection one day.

I’m not especially into sports, myself, in spite of there being so many to choose from, and that’s okay too. There’s room for everyone to live free. I’ve got an on/off appreciation for MMA and boxing, but I don’t care for the hype or the shit-talk, and I’m dismayed when competitors turn out to be terrible human beings. I find myself ethically conflicted by the damage so many sports do to the players, and how little care sporting organizations actually provide to those injured human beings long term. Those details matter to me personally.

…But… Here it is Superbowl Sunday, and I’m not here to stomp on your joy, if football is your thing, or even if you gather for the day to enjoy snacks and cameraderie. Not at all; enjoy your joy! These are difficult times and you could probably use a fun diversion from the stress of watching the world burn.

I’m not particularly competitive, personally. I’m okay with that, too. Just another variety of human experience, eh? I’m walking my own path.

… One thing about sports, though; cheating ruins the game. True in life as well. Don’t cheat. It’s poor form, and aren’t you better than that? (You could be. It’s a choice.) Be an ethical player. Everyone wins when the game is played fairly.

Here’s hoping that the playing field is always level, the referees are honest, and that the rules are always fair, whatever sport you prefer, and in your life, too. Win or lose, I hope you find the game well-played, and that you find joy in the moment. Don’t forget to make room for others to find joy. You may love football, but someone else finds their joy in dressage, cricket, women’s rowing, regatta, kickboxing, MMORPG, esports, or… fishing. There are so many ways to play the game of life. So many ways to find a moment of joy. So many varieties of human experience. Enjoy your joy. Make room for other people to enjoy theirs, too.

I finish lacing up my boots as daybreak becomes dawn. It’s a beautiful foggy morning on the trail along the marsh, and I’m eager to walk it. I’ve got the trail to myself this morning. A crane flies by. It’s time to begin again.

It’s a new day, a new opportunity, and a chance to begin again. There are choices, some with obvious options, some less so. There are unrepeatable unique moments to experience ahead. Change is, and that’s unavoidable, but it is also among the many choices. The menu of The Strange Diner is vast – far larger than anyone can experience in a single lifetime. What will I choose, today?

The dawn of a new day.

I watch the sky begin to lighten through a tear in the storm clouds overhead, waiting for enough light to walk the trail without a headlamp. Pleasant morning for it. Rain fell during the night, but it isn’t raining now. The morning is chilly but not freezing or icy. The air is calm, and the morning is a quiet one. I have the nature park to myself.

I sit with my thoughts awhile, refusing to linger over the larger concerns of the complete shit show that is currently our federal government, or the bullshit and corruption that follows putting petty billionaires in charge of it. It’s a mess and I can’t do much about it besides complain, and endure the next few years wondering how we’ll clean this mess up afterwards. Instead I focus my attention on the sky above me, the imminent dawn, and thoughts of friends, life, and love. Looks like I’ll have a four day weekend for Valentine’s Day. I sit wondering what to do with that to celebrate a partnership that is such a profound and positive experience in my life? It’s definitely worth celebrating…

The storm clouds overhead begin to take on a shredded appearance. Hints of pale blue and soft lemon yellow peer through the open spaces between the storm clouds as they begin to drift apart.

The stands of trees along the trail are silhouetted against the sky now, and I can see the trail. I sigh and rub the painful places of my neck, shoulder, and back, wherever I can reach, and lace up my boots. The walk may help some with the pain, though it often seems as likely to make it worse. Doesn’t matter. I enjoy the time walking with my thoughts. It’s a useful prelude to a new day. It’s already time to begin again.

I’m sitting with my thoughts, waiting for the sun, and watching a thin sliver of moon rise over the southern horizon. I’m reminded of a particular jazz version of a poignant song, and struggling to remember the name of the vocalist who sang the rendition I like.

Moonrise before dawn.

I finally remember her name. Nancy Wilson. What a voice! The song lingers in my memory, significant and personal. I find a recording of it online and play it as day breaks and the eastern horizon turns orange. It’s a beautiful moment. I savor it.

An owl flies overhead, passing through my field of vision, silhouetted against the the sky as I watch the sunrise. An omen? No, silly, an owl. 😉 I smile to myself, and breathe, exhale, and relax. I watch distant mumurations of flocks of birds across the bold orange sunrise. A good morning for birds, apparently. I try to get pictures, but I’m not fast enough and was unprepared; I “settle” for enjoying the sight. It’s enough to be present in this moment, here, now. It usually is.

The park gate clangs open. Dawn lights the trail. It’s a chilly morning and I wind my scarf around my neck and stuff my gloves into my pockets, expecting to need them. I pause to massage the painful places of my shoulder and neck before I leave the warmth of the car for the beauty of the trail. Always choices. Always verbs. I hear geese calling overhead. It’s time to begin again.

I am sitting at the trailhead, waiting for the sun. I’m not in any hurry, and it’s a cold morning. I’ll enjoy the walk more, watching the sun rise, so I am waiting for daybreak before I get started down the trail. Already there is the faintest smudge of something lighter than darkness on the horizon. Soon.

I woke to my artificial sunrise “alarm”, this morning, quite disoriented and confused about what day it is. It was several minutes before I remembered that it’s Saturday, and that I am enjoying a day off work. I was deeply asleep when the lights came on, and confused about the timing. It’s mornings like this that having a well-practiced routine matters most; I just continued through the morning one task at a time until my brain fully woke and I understood.

There’s a sliver of crescent moon visible to the south. Rising? Setting? I’m really not certain, and it moves rather slowly. It seems the sort of thing I should “just know”, perhaps. I don’t really care presently, and my curiosity is fleeting. My attention returns to the eastern horizon, and the hint of daylight developing there. I breathe, exhale, and relax, and give myself this uncomplicated moment of real peace. Moments like these are important to my emotional health and mental wellness. It’s necessary to “recharge my batteries” in anticipation of more complicated or difficult moments – and there will reliably be more of those, eventually. This is a very human experience. Change is. Thoughts are complicated by feelings. I sit with that awhile. It’s tempting sometimes to demonize emotions, but I’ve found that although thoughts may inform and guide us, our emotions are what enrich and define our experience. How we handle our emotions (and the emotions of others) defines our character.

I think about stormier times in my life when I was less able to manage (and respect) my emotions. I’ve come a long way. I smile to myself. I’m still 100% made of human. That’s as it should be. Time and practice, experience and self-reflection, have brought me a long way down my path. A worthy journey, and some days it feels like I’ve barely begun.

I glance at that sliver of moon again. Definitely rising. I smile to myself, feeling the promise and potential of a new day. There will be verbs involved, and no one can walk my path for me. We’re each having our own experience – and the journey is the destination. I think about a far away friend having his own difficulties in life and love, and silently wish him well. (Dude, this too will pass. Take care of yourself. Put a couple quiet solitary miles on those boots, and take some time for self-reflection.)

There’s a bold orange streak along the eastern horizon now. I sigh quietly, smile at the rising sun, and lace up my boots. Looks like time to begin again.