I had the good fortune to stay down in Olympia this past weekend.
Yep! I said good fortune.
I spent Friday doing nothing but watching reruns and going for a walk around the lake. Now, I know you're all dieing to hear me recount the hilarity of the Everyone Loves Raymond and King of Queens episodes I watched, but I'm afraid I will have to disappoint you. What I want to discuss is the many Ah-ha! moments I experienced on my walk.
Let me preface these moments by saying these are things we all know, but tend to forget in our hurried, stress-filled lives.
As I started along the path encircling the lake, I looked to my left and saw, through the trees, a heron; head-nestled, still amidst the tall reeds. Upon seeing it's quiet beauty, I inhaled the joy of the moment and scents of my surroundings. Something in the air brought forth vague familiar feelings of being home in Wisconsin; of autumn days and the warmth of family. I felt completely at home and at peace. I've always been searching for a place that provides that caring embrace I experienced growing up. For a long time I searched for it in places I felt I was supposed to live, supposed to love, but I realized the place isn't as important as the feeling. Environment is as important as the people you share it with.
Shortly after, I saw a man sitting along the pathway who was disheveled and talking to himself. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but kept my eyes diverted. I focused on the pathway and kept walking. Shortly after passing him, I hear a violent liquid splatter on the ground. Those of you who know me well, know I detest seeing (or hearing) people throw up. When I lived in NYC, it seemed like, without fail, I picked the train-car that had the puker in it. Once, it happened outside the station; I didn't even need to wait until I got on the train. That's exactly what it sounded like this man had done, except for the distinct absence of any retching sounds. Hearing this splatter, my stomach turned for a moment, but my mind grabbed on that absence of sound. I came up with the following scenario: Upon seeing a woman walking alone and purposefully not paying attention to him, probably fairly close to his age, he forcefully empties a vessel filled with water in order to get her attention. OK -- I admit, that is fully my mind's invention, but it made me start to ponder our innate need for communication. We all need someone to talk to. How much better is life when we are able to share our grand ideas, quirky experiences, and mundane happenstance? Do you ever find yourself tuning someone out because you feel like you've heard what they have to say or you can guess what's coming next in their story? Or maybe you're just too busy to care. Let's take a second look at that behavior. Perhaps the person telling or retelling you a story, needs you to not only listen but to really hear them. It is my goal to be more present in these situations and spend the time listening that I would hope others would spend on me.
Following the path, I turned past the Capital. The reeds were beginning to thin and provide bolder views of the lake and the Sound beyond. I think I had a full-body grin that day because everyone I passed responded with at least a smile if not a short conversation. It was lovely. I had been working such long hours for so many months, that I hadn't been able to take a day simply for myself; to do exactly what I wanted to. My day of rest was a day of sheer happiness that reminded me that I must take care to enrich my soul as well as my career (or wallet). Too often we stretch ourselves past the point of exhaustion or sickness; sometimes out of need, but more often out of habit. It is my goal to take "soul time" at least once every two weeks.
As I reached about the half-way point I realized how good my body felt. My newly revised body was easily taking on the path, despite my ongoing battle with a covert cold. Even at my heaviest, I have always been at slightly athletic so exercise is not foreign to me. This was different. There was a freedom in my movement. A sense of peace within my body that mirrored the peace and joy in my mind. Plainly said, exercise is good! I wasn't doing it to try to lose weight or because I thought I was supposed to. I was doing it because it made me happy. It made me feel good. That's quite a switch for me. I hope to maintain it.
As I rounded the base of the lake, my body was done and ready for a shower. Showers are good, too.
All in all, it was a lovely day. If I could wish you anything for Christmas, it would be to have your own day of important reminders.
Happy Holidays!
Rachel
Yep! I said good fortune.
I spent Friday doing nothing but watching reruns and going for a walk around the lake. Now, I know you're all dieing to hear me recount the hilarity of the Everyone Loves Raymond and King of Queens episodes I watched, but I'm afraid I will have to disappoint you. What I want to discuss is the many Ah-ha! moments I experienced on my walk.
Let me preface these moments by saying these are things we all know, but tend to forget in our hurried, stress-filled lives.
As I started along the path encircling the lake, I looked to my left and saw, through the trees, a heron; head-nestled, still amidst the tall reeds. Upon seeing it's quiet beauty, I inhaled the joy of the moment and scents of my surroundings. Something in the air brought forth vague familiar feelings of being home in Wisconsin; of autumn days and the warmth of family. I felt completely at home and at peace. I've always been searching for a place that provides that caring embrace I experienced growing up. For a long time I searched for it in places I felt I was supposed to live, supposed to love, but I realized the place isn't as important as the feeling. Environment is as important as the people you share it with.
Shortly after, I saw a man sitting along the pathway who was disheveled and talking to himself. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but kept my eyes diverted. I focused on the pathway and kept walking. Shortly after passing him, I hear a violent liquid splatter on the ground. Those of you who know me well, know I detest seeing (or hearing) people throw up. When I lived in NYC, it seemed like, without fail, I picked the train-car that had the puker in it. Once, it happened outside the station; I didn't even need to wait until I got on the train. That's exactly what it sounded like this man had done, except for the distinct absence of any retching sounds. Hearing this splatter, my stomach turned for a moment, but my mind grabbed on that absence of sound. I came up with the following scenario: Upon seeing a woman walking alone and purposefully not paying attention to him, probably fairly close to his age, he forcefully empties a vessel filled with water in order to get her attention. OK -- I admit, that is fully my mind's invention, but it made me start to ponder our innate need for communication. We all need someone to talk to. How much better is life when we are able to share our grand ideas, quirky experiences, and mundane happenstance? Do you ever find yourself tuning someone out because you feel like you've heard what they have to say or you can guess what's coming next in their story? Or maybe you're just too busy to care. Let's take a second look at that behavior. Perhaps the person telling or retelling you a story, needs you to not only listen but to really hear them. It is my goal to be more present in these situations and spend the time listening that I would hope others would spend on me.
Following the path, I turned past the Capital. The reeds were beginning to thin and provide bolder views of the lake and the Sound beyond. I think I had a full-body grin that day because everyone I passed responded with at least a smile if not a short conversation. It was lovely. I had been working such long hours for so many months, that I hadn't been able to take a day simply for myself; to do exactly what I wanted to. My day of rest was a day of sheer happiness that reminded me that I must take care to enrich my soul as well as my career (or wallet). Too often we stretch ourselves past the point of exhaustion or sickness; sometimes out of need, but more often out of habit. It is my goal to take "soul time" at least once every two weeks.
As I reached about the half-way point I realized how good my body felt. My newly revised body was easily taking on the path, despite my ongoing battle with a covert cold. Even at my heaviest, I have always been at slightly athletic so exercise is not foreign to me. This was different. There was a freedom in my movement. A sense of peace within my body that mirrored the peace and joy in my mind. Plainly said, exercise is good! I wasn't doing it to try to lose weight or because I thought I was supposed to. I was doing it because it made me happy. It made me feel good. That's quite a switch for me. I hope to maintain it.
As I rounded the base of the lake, my body was done and ready for a shower. Showers are good, too.
All in all, it was a lovely day. If I could wish you anything for Christmas, it would be to have your own day of important reminders.
Happy Holidays!
Rachel
1 comment:
Yay! I hope you have fun with your new blog, Rach! I find they are really good for exactly the kind of thing you're doing here..."thinking out loud [on screen]" about moments and events of the day that capture your attention for a minute or more.
Lovens and good bloggin' vibes!
Emilie
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