March 23, 2015

days 400-446
have been kind of bleak? for a variety of reasons, some of them very difficult to articulate, I am quite suddenly finding it next to impossible most days to feel interested in running. it isn't burnout. it might be distraction. muscles hurt inexplicably. who can say. I just keep running and hoping for better days.

recently I was talking to someone dear to me about trying to introduce exercise into one's life, about how what makes it stick is finding something you enjoy, and I said, "if there's anything I've learned in 400+ days, it's that discipline is just love, really." sometimes I think I've learned more about long-term relationships from this daily solitary endeavor than anything else, ever. how you can on some days utterly hate it and still not want to quit.

small regrets rectified
I've been issued a new garden plot, in my old garden site but on the opposite side of the garden. I am so happy about this. I gave up my plot a year and a half ago when I thought I was moving to alabama. I gave away a lot of stuff during the time when I thought I'd move, but it's only the loss of the garden that I've bitterly regretted.

it will, however, be hard to see the raspberry canes in my old plot, which it used to take me an hour a day to harvest, and be unable to pick them. I'll admit to being a little small and jealous in hoping that someone tore them up.

the unexpected
there are two toothbrushes in my bathroom. a second tube of deodorant. a phone charger. an extra container of yogurt. at the precise moment I had conceded to the idea of staying single forever -- I preferred it, didn't I? I was too finicky, too solitary, too headstrong -- out came this most extraordinary of surprises. a chance encounter with a former colleague turned into a date, and then a weekend of dates, and then a few days in a cabin in the woods, and now a dedicated shelf in my bathroom. nobody -- and I really mean this -- is more astonished than we are. just when you think you know where you're headed. you'd think I'd have learned this by now.

March 14, 2015

I know, you never intended to be in this world.
But you’re in it all the same.

So why not get started immediately.

I mean, belonging to it.
There is so much to admire, to weep over.

And to write music or poems about.

Bless the feet that take you to and fro.
Bless the eyes and the listening ears.
Bless the tongue, the marvel of taste.
Bless touching.

You could live a hundred years, it’s happened.
Or not.
I am speaking from the fortunate platform
of many years,
none of which, I think, I ever wasted.
Do you need a prod?
Do you need a little darkness to get you going?
Let me be as urgent as a knife, then,
and remind of you Keats,
So single of purpose and thinking, for a while,
he had a lifetime.

-- mary oliver, the fourth sign of the zodiac