from start to finish. opening my eyes to fresh new snow. sorting through the short stack at my bedside. sewing yet another bird while sipping chai. moving to the kitchen to put by a batch of jam from berries stored in the freezer since autumn. strapping on the snowshoes and heading up coyote hill with mountain milo following my ‘shoe impressions in the snow. i buttoned up the day with a cup of tea and stringing an iolite + pearl bead strand. just enough activity. a bit of this, a bit of that.
the past me would have an activity tracker strapped to my wrist. i’d be checking for progress throughout the day. have i reached a mile? two miles? i would push through pain just for the sake of seeing a number on the screen. now, right-now me listens to my body. my sweet bone-whisperer urged me as such. the thing is, my brain lies to me. there’s a weird disconnect that happens where i go back to olden tymes when i would tell myself you can do it….it is expected of you. now, my body and my brain work hand-in-hand, synapsing little messages back and forth, and when my body has had enough, i feel whipped and all-done-in and my mind whispers to me you are done.
i don‘t know why i am the way i am. that used to be something i would say to others. i don‘t know why i am this way, but…. i don’t say that any longer. i honour me and all my quirkyness. all my idiosyncrasies. after all, it’s me that must live with me through the course of a day. it’s me that tallies the day’s inventory when i lay my head on my pillow. and if i feel good about what i did throughout any given day, how i treated others, how i treated myself, then i can move forward with peace of mind.
it’s a good life.