Training Ground

I had big plans for today's post. It was all prettied up and scheduled in and ready to go, and I was all sorts of excited about it. But sometimes projects that we care about take longer than we anticipate, whether that's because the words we are looking for are struggling to come forward, or because the logistics are more complicated than we realized.

I'm a one-woman show over here and that means that I wear a whole bunch of sometimes rather odd hats. This week, one of those hats has been "web coder" which, as it turns out, I have no idea how to do! So there is learning involved, and frustration, and things take time...and more time...and maybe a bit more time after that.

And that is okay.


I want to serve you in my work and with what I share here. I want to connect in real ways to all the things we have in common, the things we all struggle with daily. I never wanted any of my online spaces to look like a "highlight reel" that hides the work and the discomfort and- dare I say it- the failures. Because failure and frustration are inevitable bedfellows of risk and reward. They just are. 

And, as it turns out, they also tend to be our most powerful teachers. It's easy to scribble into my journal all the ways that I vow to pause and find the spaces and the small beauties in my mundane daily life, the ways I will pause long enough to ask myself if what I'm getting worked up about is really worth the energy and anger. It's a whole OTHER thing to be staring down a deadline, jacked up on my ninth cup of coffee, trying to figure out WHAT THE HELL I just entered that made all the text shift from vertical to horizontal and I haven't even started on the actual writing yet...ahhhhh!!! 

These are the moments that teach us how to notice, how to find the tiny spaces to take a breath and find perspective. This is the training ground where we learn to put into actual, meaningful practice the noticing that comes easier when life feels peaceful. This is where what we learn in our yoga practices or on our meditation cushions or in our journaling comes to matter in our "real" lives. This is "noticing" at work on the ground.

So here I am, unable to deliver what I'd intended for you today. But I will get it to you, and the work done will be properly (if not perfectly) done. Look for an extra post from me later this will be short and sweet, but will contain the details of my very first giveaway here! (How have I never had a fun giveaway before?!?!?)

Thank you all for being here, not just for the highlights and the "wins" but also for the imperfections and the "fails."  You guys are such a source of daily inspiration to me.



I Ran In The Rain Today

I ran in the rain today.

I didn’t feel like it and put it off with everything I could think of, from emails to a long dog walk to reorganizing my supplies for showering at the gym. "I’m busy," I told myself, “and it’s raining and I’m tired and I can do it later.” I even went so far as to sit for several minutes in the parking lot debating whether to get out of the car. I really didn’t feel like it.

I ran in the rain today.

I went to the woods to run. I rebel at the idea of running anywhere else these days. My logical self knew that I needed time among the trees, that I would be less cranky and snippy and more productive if I made time to stretch my legs under a canopy of leaves and sky. Sometimes I’m glad when my logical self bullies my emotional self into doing what must be done. 

I ran in the rain today.

It wasn’t a torrential downpour, but instead came down with steadiness and reliability. It sometimes sounded like the palm of a hand slapping down on a tabletop as fat drops reached their terminal velocity before colliding with the enormous leaves of late summer. The slaps became the rhythm that I timed my footfalls to, my own backwoods drum circle as I wound around muddy trails.

I ran in the rain today.

Blackfly season is over, but the horseflies have been a nuisance unto themselves this year. Whenever I began to let my thoughts drift away, to disconnect from the burning in my out-of-shape legs, their bites would pinch me awake and pull me back to the moment, labored breathing and all.  These last many weeks I have given in to “busy” and let my to-do lists edge out what I know I need to be sustainable, to push my run or my yoga practice down the list until it fell right off the bottom of the page. Now my legs burn and my lungs burn and I have to get past the painful beginnings all over again. And the horsefly just won’t let me pretend otherwise.

I ran in the rain today.

I didn’t cure cancer or bring peace to a war torn nation. I didn’t even manage to get through the first part of my own checklist of tasks that must be done. But I got out of my car in the parking lot when I didn’t feel like it. I laced up my shoes. I put one foot in front of the other for a few miles. And I felt the coolness of the water on my skin, sating a thirsty soul that grows parched by long days at desks and chasing lists that have no end. I moved my animal’s body through its habitat in the forest and it remembered, for the briefest moment, what it was to be a wild thing meant to run. 

I ran in the rain today.