Happy New Year

On December 31, 2009, I woke up to feel as if moving were impossible and breathing was agony. As December 31, 2010 approaches, I take some time to reflect. It was a year of slowing down for a bit, sometimes even stopping. If there is a lesson for me, as there often is, it would be this: gratitude. Remembering how hard it was to move, I am delighted with each movement I make. Remembering clearly, how each movement made—from a twitch in my pinky or a turn of the foot-- caused such pain, I am in awe of the body and what it does and can do. We are miracles. I tried to pay attention more this year, to be grateful and be present. I know that I have a lot of practicing still to do. I know I am at the beginning of this learning.

Here’s to 2011, may it be filled with great movement, great joy, great being, gratefulness!

Warmth...or relatively speaking

When the winds finally blew out of town, the 30-degree temps remaining felt down right warm. After days of biting winds that cut clear through to the bone, the sunny 30s seemed like an early spring.

Funny, how it’s all a matter of perspective.

I remember when I returned from Belize after living there for two years: it was summer in the DC area, and I felt that our typical hazy, hot and humid weather here was actually quite comfortable.

Comparably, it is. Belize, a small country in Central America bordering Mexico and Guatemala and backing up to the Caribbean Sea, is flipping hot pretty much all the time. On average, it is 90 degrees with 75% humidity, except the rainy season (October-December), during which it is 100% humidity and 75 degrees.

During my first rainy season—only a few months into my time there--I remember feeling amused when I saw some of the Belizeans and long time residents wearing winter coats, gloves and hats. Of course, it wasn’t long before I was shivering jealously and found myself wearing almost all of my clothes just to stay warm.

Returning to DC, the air conditioning, and it’s seemingly moderate temps, I spent many a night layering on the blankets and wearing thermal gear. Family and friends were a bit concerned. Of course, this too passed; eventually, I adjusted to the praises of A/C and joined the ranks of the complainers over “how hot it is here!”

Funny, how it’s all relative. I try to hold this in memory. Especially since it’s certainly NOT been hot here this winter with those blessed winds! BUT since they’ve at least taken a temporary break, I really appreciate how warm it feels now!

Go. Stop. Somewhere in between.

My life has been go. I am constantly in motion and often in a hurry. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. Movement can be a good thing…to a certain extent. I am active, alive, growing, learning AND exhausted. This winter, I have found myself wanting to hibernate. From the personal (injuries) to the environmental (snowmegedon), this year has been a year of shall we say smaller steps, even no steps at points. My mind is usually racing even if my body isn’t, which it usually is as well: I’m off or planning to be off to somewhere or some other task, even in the midst of this one:

White Rabbit syndrome: LATE, LATE, LATE. For what?

Now, I’m just tired. Don’t get me wrong, I like doing still. I like learning and participating and what have you. AND, I don’t want to be somewhere else when I’m here...if that makes any sense! I am trying to be in the now, savor each moment, not gobble and go. I just hope it’s not too late.

Mother Nature: Large and In Charge

It’s winter, so, I shouldn’t BE so SURPRISED how cold it is…but… it’s really COLD! I don’t remember it being so COLD here during the winter. BUT, even more than just the COLD, is the wind. WIND, I should say. It is a WIND of force, blowing with fierceness, reaching through me, and insisting I feel it, hear it, yield to it, which I do. I know my nemesis when it comes a howling. I can do cold. I can deal with breezy. Cold and windy…I’m no match (add rain and I’m definitely done-ski!)

I’m not sure when the DC Metropolitan area became Chicago but we’re certainly giving it a showdown for title this year! Over the past two months, we have had at least 40 days of WINDY, with gusts up to 40 miles an hour and chills registering below 20 degrees. Can you say involuntary chatter just thinking of it?

However, I still try to beat the forces, and yesterday, donning at least 4 layers of clothing, looking like a little kid ready for a blizzard, I trudged out into the fresh air and gentle snow flurries to have a go at running…against the wind. The wind won. Slowest. Run. EVER. I think I’m getting feeling back in my fingers and toes now, six hours later. I ran a local trail around a lake. It’s one of my happy places, which is fortunate, because I got to spend a lot more time there than I had planned. Part of the run is open---completely--to the lake: no trees, no barriers, just a gorgeous open expansive…WINDY stretch. I think it’s only about an eighth of a mile long but today it felt like 8 MILES. Likely, I went backwards more than I went forwards. Gusts off the lake drove snow sideways and took with it every breath I had, leaving me gasping, ironically, for air. Cruel wind.

Along the tree-lined portions, the wind called out, reminding those of us hiding within that it was still there. Wailing across the lake. Whipping through the woods, whistling…rustling leaves and bushes…whirling about the signs of fall, past. Trees arched and ached, cracking and moaning, snapping…and crashing…the wind’s calling card…crying out…I am here…still…it says.

Eventually, I emerged from the woods to do body combat with the wind on the open stretch once more. Winter winds pushing, pulling, totally in control. When done, I bow to the winds and feel ready for a nap. Retreat. Retreat.

Mother nature. No joke!

Seasonal shifts

Shortest day of the year. Darkest day of the year. December 21, 2010. Winter began.

Winter blew in officially, and literally. The winds and cold have quickly made themselves at home, making claim to this time, this season, this space, whether I am ready for it or not. I, in response, have longed to curl up in coziness. To turn inward, and rest, and rest, and rest some more. What is that piercing sound awakening me morning after morning? Listen, instead, to this clock, the clock of the seasons. Time now for slumber and rejuvenation. Time now for quiet. The quiet of the snows covering the busyness of life, of constant doing and going and going. The icing of the flows of thoughts and actions. Still. Be still. Be.