I originally started walking in an attempt to force myself to have quiet time. Just me and the outsides and my thoughts. The side benefit of this was that walking is exercise which I also need so I can stem the impending stroke.
The walking was supposed to help me practice being in the present. My hope was that more time in quiet solitude, without the distractions of music, interwebs, movies, etc., I could re-connect with who I am and what is important to me.
This has proven more of a challenge than I'd realized.
First, my mind is going all of the time. I try to get myself to center my thoughts on the present, on the walking, my breathing, the scenery. But this is what happens:
Dear God, I hate being awake. It is early.
Focus. PRESENT!
I am walking. I am Sherry and I am walking. Look at my feet taking steps. My feet.
I would like a pedicure. That would be nice.
My shoes are kind of tight. I will have to set aside some time to re-lace them because I think the problem is...
NO! Be present. Be....
I got these sneakers at that trip to Minnesota.
Wow. That was a long time ago.
I felt kind of like a weirdo on that trip. Why do I have to be so weird?
Minn-E-SO-TA. Ha! It's fun to say that word in a silly voice. MINNESOTA!
Oh.My.God. I hate these pants. How can I weigh the same but my pants never stay up? Is it possible to be simultaneously too big and too small for my pants?
AHHH! Please pay attention. Look at the flowers. All of the flowers.
They are pretty. I wish some of my plants would live instead of die. When did I become the harbinger of death?
Hey look! A trash can. It has a sign: NO DOG FECES.
That is weird. Why wouldn't you just say poo? No one in this area is going to know what FECES means.
Ha ha ha.
Oh! Yikes! Why do people who walk their dogs think they own the stupid sidewalk. Stupid people. Stupid dogs.
FECES! I bet people will think FECES is a Spanish word. They will think that they cannot throw their dogs in the trash can. Hardy har. Then, if they are like the kids at my work, they won't read the sign and out goes Fido.
Who am I?
And it continues that way for an hour. On the upside, the hour goes quickly and you would not believe how much more of the crazy I have seen. The clothes people wear outdoors is outstanding. What people constitute as pets blows my mind.
One morning I saw a man walking a dog. He headed out of his house at the same time his wife was leaving for work or an appointment or something. The dog's leash was incredibly long and kept getting wrapped around the man and woman. Sometimes the woman would have to walk under the leash as the man held it over her head and the dog sniffed for the perfect spot. They walked together this way, the three of them, awkwardly.
Another morning, around 9:30 a.m. or so, a woman was pulling out of her driveway. I jogged past it so that she could pull out. I heard her say: "I don't usually see someone walking so early..."
Early? I don't really think 9:30 a.m. is that early. What time does she get up?
Anyways...
I think the walking is still good for me, even though I haven't quite achieved my goal on greater peace and self-identity. I have gathered more stories, and maybe that is part of it. All of those stories, seen through my eyes, contribute to the person I am.
I walk.
I cannot stay in the moment.
I know what FECES means.
I am woman.
me
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