Foggy roads and grieving hearts make it hard to grasp where you are.
Fans of the brilliant songwriter John Prine will recognize an echo there with a line of his. I borrowed its framing as a tribute.
(“Broken hearts and dirty windows make life difficult to see,” from Souvenirs.)
When we look back on this time at some far future point, we will each recall hallmarks large and small that most remind us of it. Events that moved us from an abstract sense of its singular seriousness to reality hitting home.
The manner in which we lost this songwriter is one such marker for me, given what he succumbed to after surviving so much else.
It says something significant about the times we’re in that readers across the globe will instantly grasp what i mean by “the times we’re in.”
“To love a person is to know what a huge thing a person is, right? There’s such a universe contained in each person, and to love a person is to have such an appreciation of that universe.”
(Rebecca Newberger Goldstein)
A few months ago, i wrote a post about movement .
Its theme was how we experience movement through time, and i said i would write a further post on the subject. Here it is…
As i noted in the earlier piece, i got to thinking about movement when i became able to return to it after a period of stagnancy and lack of control.
Movement, to put it simply, feels good.
When i think of enjoying movement, i think first of bodily motion. The visceral elation of being on a swing as a child and going as high as i could. Or the excitement of driving a fast car or being on a roller coaster. Thrilling physical motion feels as though we can almost be taken out of time for a moment.
A second notion of movement (which i focused on in the earlier post) makes me think of time passing, and why there’s a sense of satisfaction in noting our relationship to it.
We like checking things off to-do lists and finding shortcuts that help us move through tasks more efficiently.
When we don’t sense progress we say we are spinning our wheels or treading water — not very positive images.
A third aspect of movement has to do with our emotional experiences.
I acknowledge a subtle shift in meaning between these usages, but i think there’s a relevance between time passing and being moved in our sentiments.
“Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.”
As i was about to post that quote this morning — one equally applicable to our social surroundings as to our internal selves — i realized today is a personal anniversary, marking six years cancer-free. It was almost an afterthought. (Almost.)
The quote pairs well with this one:
“When you can’t control what’s happening, challenge yourself to control the way you respond to what’s happening. That’s where your power is.”
Here in southeast Wisconsin, the first snow came early this season.
While October’s foliage still stunned with radiant hues, the storm moved in, dropping several inches of wet white stuff — and shaking me out of my ardent embrace of autumn.
This photo shows the view from my bedroom window that morning. It felt important to capture the reversal of order, the leaves that were dropping onto the fallen snow.
Perhaps this isn’t all that uncommon and i just never noticed it before.
But it’s making me think about the suppositions i carry of what is likely to happen next. I’ve learned to welcome the stirring up of settled notions, the upending of unacknowledged assumptions — to keep from becoming too staid.
Let the wind rustle the leaves over the snow.
I would have liked for autumn to hang around a bit longer. But i do also delight in gray skies and the neighborhood layered in white.
Winter has charms of its own, and the best of them is that it doesn’t last for too long either.
A few weeks ago I wrote a guest post for fitness blogger Saguren’s site Exercise and Health, on the topic of fitness blogging in general. When he issued the invitation, I was interested in contributing a piece because I find his blog helpful, interesting and balanced. I highly recommend you check it out.
You can read my guest post with his added comments at this link. I am also republishing my original text below.
I have a tendency to get a little annoyed by some fitness websites (not this one) — for at least two reasons.
First, it often seems like they’re ‘preaching to the converted’ — catering to people who are already fit.
Second, they can come across as looking down on those who aren’t, by over-simplifying both what the attainable goals should be and what it takes to reach them.
(An earlier post of mine from a few years ago also touches on this idea.)
I was especially interested in doing a guest post for this site because neither of those is true here.
For all my early life, I had little natural inclination toward strenuous physical activity. My interests ran to the cerebral and stationary: writing, reading, meaningful conversation.
(My twin sister, in contrast, was in high school sports and seemed, from very early childhood and throughout, to have a noticeably faster metabolism, even though we share the same DNA.)
(Tyler Feld Photography)
I composed some of this post while i was walking this morning, and some while i was knitting. The movements got me thinking about life from the perspective of motion…
As creatures bound by time, we experience our existence as movement through time.
We measure our days and our years by what we get done, and by when.
We wish our favorite moments could last forever.
When something shattering happens we say it was like time stood still.
When we accomplish or survive something significant, we feel good about having gotten from then to now, from there to here.
‘Making progress’ feels important to us. We mine satisfaction from a sense of forward motion.
This is on my mind as i consider why i’ve felt rather contented over the past few months. Some of it comes with stepping out into the clearing after having been in the woods for a while. Some has to do with uplifting connections with family and friends. But it isn’t due to any major achievement, or to writing more posts (obviously).