Tuesday Slice: Leaps and bounds and plods

We've had a touch of warm weather lately, and they're back.  I see them from my kitchen window, while I'm driving through my neighborhood and that of the school in which I work.  Most are alone, though I've noticed pairs and packs of them.  They all have one thing in common--their graceful, light-as-air bounding.  Whether they move quickly as Olympian contenders, or more slowly enjoying the scenery, their feet seem to barely touch the gravelly dirt of the hike-and-bike or the solid gray squares of sidewalk. Their breathing, if labored at all, is measured and strong.  Studious or smiling, their running looks effortless, as if unseen hands are holding their bodies aloft, allowing their feet to gently touch the ground with each stride.

I have never felt that lightness of being while engaged in exercise.  Instead of hands holding me up, I feel the earth pulling me to its core.  Sometimes the crunch of gravel from my heavy footsteps is sensory overload, and I leave the trails to plod along sidewalks.  Increasing the speed to a slow jog, my bones are jarred with each pounding step, and my breath is ragged.  Indoors, attempting to replicate the springing steps of aerobics instructors on workout videos has flattened the pile on my living room carpet; when I try to run in place, kicking my feet back as they do, I feel like I'm about to land on my face.  Better to march along low impact style and remain upright.

In water, however, gravity loses its hold on these dinosaur bones of mine.  I am an excellent floater!  Swimming season cannot come soon enough.  

Tuesday Slice: A cloud of January words

A quiet Monday at home, contemplating Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr's legacy while I puttered around the house, had me feeling introspective and sentimental.  The news coverage of King's speeches, an interview with his daughter, and the marchers on the streets today reinforced the power of words to encourage change.

What power do my words hold?  Could they encourage me to do better? Like a scientist who takes a core sample from a glacier, I decided to review my January Slices as a time capsule.  To discover the themes in my New Year's writings, I took a tech-y shortcut by copying and pasting my January posts for the last three years ('16-'18) into an online WordCloud app.  Here's the result:

"Time" is front and center.  So are "new," "make," "remember," "day," "school," and "marched."

January is all about time, isn't it?  Planning our goals--and thus, our time--for the coming year.  Spending time with our families as the holidays wrap up, making memories to remember.  

It's about beginning anew, too.  We give ourselves permission to start over--New Year, new school semester, a new routine. 

Next January, I will most likely reminisce about how the days marched away.  I will think about my mornings and nights--my time around school hours--and how I spent them, to figure out if being a wife, mother, and friend balanced out with being an educator.  

This WordCloud has given me much to ponder.  I wonder--if I do this each month, what words will pop up front and center?  What meaning will I attach to them given my current situation?  I think it's worth a try!

Tuesday Slice: Meditating in a Subway

We were locked out of our meeting space.  A spur-of-the-moment idea resulted in the seven of us seated at rearranged tables and chairs in the Subway restaurant next door, stacks of magazines in front of each of us.

The facilitator began our guided meditation.  Eyes closed, my senses were filled with piped-in music, scents of bacon and onion and toasted bread, orders being given, chairs scraping and footsteps padding on the floor.  At first it was distracting, and I had to refocus on our facilitator's words.  As the meditation and exercise continued, the sounds and smells faded to the background, forming a pillow for my thoughts.  Focus your energy...whiff of food...focus on the month...snippet of song...focus on the images...what can I do for you, sir?

We were almost finished when another facilitator arrived with a key.  We unanimously, quietly decided to finish the meditation portion of our morning in the Subway.  After a few exchanges of gratitude and "have a nice day" with the restaurant staff, we packed up and moved next door to our usual space to finish creating our collages.

I usually enjoy the calm, quiet space where we meet.  But this morning, it seemed a little less "full" without the clatter of the outside world, reminding us that no matter where you are, you can still go inward to find that place of peace.

Tuesday Slice: Tend

Tend:  to act in a particular way, cultivate, serve, watch over, pay attention, wait, listen, be ready, take charge.  (Thank you, Merriam-Webster online dictionary.)

That's my One Little Word (OLW) for 2019.  After experiencing "enough" (2018's OLW) last year, I realized by this New Year's Eve that in many areas of my life I truly have had enough.  Enough debt.  Enough lack of sleep.  Enough drawn-out, longer-than-necessary work days.  Enough fat on these bones and weakening of muscles.  Enough avoidance tactics of eating and shopping and mindless screen time.  Enough wishing for more experiences and memory-making.

So this year, it's all about tending to those things I've had enough of.  Tend to my finances, my sleep schedule, my work hours.  Tend to my home and relationships.  Tend to my body's needs for healthy food and exercise.  Tend to what is truly important, and whittle away the rest.

Photo ©Christine Margocs.  Taken January 7, 2019.