Context Matters

It was freezing cold in Indiana this week. It’s always chilly in January, but these temperatures are really bananas, the kind of cold that keeps children inside at recess and dogs dressed in silly coats.

I didn’t want to run and there were a million reasons not to in fact. My to do list was spilling over onto page two, my ankle was sore, my favorite socks need washed. It was a battle to put on all the layers, tights, wool socks, undershirt, sweatshirt, scarf, hat and gloves. I trudged in my boots down the back hill, carrying my tennis shoes in one hand, and shading my eyes from the glare with the other.

At the gate, I swapped my shoes and tucked my boots off to the left side. Quickly I pulled off a glove to start my watch and reposition the air buds nestled in my ears. A quick look in both directions confirms that I am for sure the only crazy person outside on this chilly afternoon. I turn away from the wind and start to jog.

The rhythm of movement in my body is soothing, a steady beat of my footfalls and the rolling swing of my arms. My eyes scan the trail ahead, the tree line, the creek, looking for a glimpse of bright red or blue feathers. They say cardinals carry messages from heaven.

My mind starts to think about the rest of the afternoon. When I get back to my desk, I’ll need to make that phone call, update that list. Don’t forget to reschedule tomorrow’s meeting and confirm the agenda. The recitation of my tasks becomes a melody, rising above the base of my footfalls. First this, and then this, and then that my inner voice hums in my mind like a violin.

Two miles from home my thoughts turn to the kiddos. Pick up one at five, the other has ballet at six. Must go to the store in between, for eggs and yogurt, and whatever we’ll eat for dinner tonight. I’m outside in the sunshine and fresh air, ticking through miles and warming up to the exertion, the trill of birthday party invitations, school snacks and permission slips ringing high above the other thoughts.

Taking the turn at the roundabout, time to head for home. Back to my office, my to do lists, the family and the pup. Back to the zoom calls and emails, the grocery lists and backpacks. Laundry that needs folded and contracts to be reviewed. My lungs fill with the crisp air, and my pace quickens as I see our gate come into view, my boots tucked just to the left. The run has been good, I’ve enjoyed the song of my life.

#Motion