This morning I pulled on my snowshoes and trudged to the park near my house. It was still and warm (in the low twenties) with sunshine that varied from comfortably diffuse to cheerfully and painfully bright. For forty minutes I dodged yellow snow by park paths, tried to find new paths through underbrush around ponds, and deliciously broke through wide, unmarked fields.
I laughed because it felt like I was breaking a rule—don’t trek through that pristine snow! HaHA! I broke a rule! Okay, I broke a rule that isn’t a rule and if it was a rule it would be stupid, but the paralyzing good girl craziness I struggle with lost some ground today. I was tired and thoroughly warmed up by the time I got home with forty minutes of movement behind me, two pieces of garbage I picked up along the way (this is not good girl excessiveness; litter is gross,) and a huge cramp in my right hand (what in the world?) I was warm enough to sit down on my patio and reflect on life a little. Stay tuned for an upcoming essay on how writing is like a bad boyfriend.
I may have neglected to mention that I am between jobs right now. I was…released from my schedule (?) last month when I simply ran out of things to do. With the agency change and move, my workload went from insane to nothing in three months. I am assured I will be called back as they need help, presumably with large projects, but was told “if that is too loosey goosey,” for me in terms of employment they would understand if I needed to look elsewhere. Waiting by the phone is not my thing, so I am looking, and writing…and snowshoeing. Today’s revelation is that taking a moment now and then in the fresh air has a way of helping you stay grounded, and feeling anchored makes it easier when life is changing around you. Peace.