Thursday, October 29, 2009
I've had a small run of small things that, in a small way, aren't so pleasant--forgetting important things in the car or at home and realizing it only when I've reached the classroom, becoming extra-sick on the medication, and on my recent walk with the dogs, spraining my ankle.
Those brownies above? I'm going to remember them today. Ryan made them, and I promised to bring some in to the students who could put together a bibliography the fastest (and most correct), but then I left them in my car. The same day, I forgot my attendance list in my office (the same floor of the same building, thank goodness) and the printer ran out of ink, so I had no handouts.
It's just comically ridiculous, I suppose--these little things that add up to some serious adaptation. Fortunately, I am not the sort of instructor who puts out a stuffy demeanor to my students, so I can roll with these twists (oh, pained ankle!) with some humor and grace.
Today, outside, it is cold and rainy, and I won't go on my daily walk, not because I am discouraged by bad weather, but because my ankle is tender, only a little swollen, not so bad that I cannot get around easily but enough that I'd prefer not to let this klutz go out and make things worse, which is what I'd probably do--retwist to a greater degree. Don't doubt the power of the girl who walks into walls.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
I spent the afternoon fairly floored by that daily dose, and to cheer me up, Ryan invited me along on his daily walk with the dogs, which has taken him back to Memorial Bluff again and again, while it is still light in the evenings. A few field notes in this post on the walking blog.
Runner-up to my daily walk photo. This one is probably sweeter, but I know I won't always have the chance to hold up a bright amur maple leaf up to the camera! I think I've been very lucky this autumn to have these bright colors a part of my landscape for so long--the first ones appeared at Bread Loaf in Vermont, and I've been getting glimpses ever since.
I find this mindful walking is tipping into other aspects of my physical and mental health: I'm learning to not push myself so hard with needless extras, and those limitations on intake also are relating to consumption: as of yesterday morning, I no longer eat red meat, I am indeed considering returning to vegetarianism (I had been for about seven or eight years, but the last three or so, I have been eating meat, which was essentially a reaction to Ryan's treatment of leftovers and me being my father's daughter, the leftover machine), and I am reaffirming my relationship to being alcohol-free, which is necessitated by the drug regimen I am on to regulate my PCOS. Ryan is joining me on a very moderate exercise schedule, which includes embarrassment as he whips past me in push-ups and sit-ups and runs circles around me in the park. Somehow, I still don't want to push him away; it's important to me that he does as I do, even if I am snail's-pace slower. His company is always so good for me.
I hope to knead in other healthful changes as well: being more conscious of water-intake, working in plenty more fresh fruits and vegetables, switching to more organic choices, and I'd like to stop talking about it and do it--start a beginning yoga class. There's one I'm eying that starts next month, but it's on Thursday mornings, which happen to also already be my meeting time for independent study, a primary obligation. Oh, the art of balancing--our internal and external lives--oh, fresh air and sunshine.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Field notes in this post on my walking blog.
I am sore from the past two days, my legs straining when I stand, my body laughing at what happens when a still person attempts constant motion for two days, the balls of my feet achy, my eyes stinging with want of sleep.
These past few days, instead of being responsible and plowing through assignments and my to-do list, I gave myself a break--spent time with good girl friends, enjoyed fresh air. Even though tonight will be a rough go, reading a stack of books, attempting to smooth out some work, I definitely needed to close my eyes to that pressing need of all else. Sometimes, we know, we will crack, if we don't take the time to find calm.