Walking my way home

the walker

My version of the Park and Walk. Bucket hat optional.

I drive to a lovely historic neighborhood near my condo to walk almost every day because where I live doesn’t have sidewalks. Today, I was halfway there when I realized that I had forgotten to put my Fitbit on my wrist. I almost turned around to go home and get it until that tiny voice of reason in my head said, “Fuhgeddaboudit.”

fitbit meme

Bad attitude.

I started my current walking practice – and that’s what it is for me – about a year into Trump’s presidency. Prior to the electoral apocalypse, I would mostly get my exercise at the gym near my home. I would listen to a playlist on my iPhone while I did the cross trainer for 45 minutes or so, but even with my ear buds on, I could not avoid the sea of televisions hanging above me like Mission Control. Almost all the sets were turned to cable news and invariably, I would see the BREAKING NEWS crawl on every screen and even though I couldn’t hear what the announcers were saying, it made me anxious – even MSNBC – my propaganda of choice. I would leave the gym filled with sweaty angst. Trust me, not a good look.

gym tvs

Must Not See TV.

I just couldn’t take it anymore and decided that I needed a more nurturing venue for exercise. So, I started walking. I mean seriously walking because, well, it’s not like I haven’t been walking for several decades. Now I don’t mean power walking. I certainly respect your choice if this is your deal, but power walking is just too portentous for me. And besides, it makes me flat-out giggle.

My sister-in-law got a Fitbit a few Christmases ago and crushed her step goal every day and got into great shape. I was still not convinced I wanted or needed another device to keep charged and updated, but when I made a break from the Television Zone at the gym, I decided I might as well measure my efforts each day.

fitbit time

If only it were that easy.

 

At first, I really liked the Fitbit. It was kind of fun to see how far I could go without collapsing and it is certainly a very encouraging and friendly device. It shoots off a display of fireworks and vibrates when you reach the all important 10,000 steps and sends you fun badges each time you hit a milestone. I was a Girl Scout, so the badge incentive really appealed to me. The Fitbit also gently nudges you to get up and walk every hour. And it keeps track of things like your resting heart rate and how you slept. I don’t really enjoy that feature because I don’t need empirical data to tell me that I don’t sleep well so I usually take it off when I go to bed.

fitbit sleep

I count sheep, but still see red.

 

I also don’t wear it out like a regular watch. It’s not at all pretty and I enjoy wearing a nice watch when I’m not exercising. Yes, I know Fitbits come in pretty colors now, but at the end of the day it’s still a device and not a fashionable accessory. This is not negotiable.

woner woman watch

Wonder Woman kicks Fitbit’s ass.

The Fitbit does reinforce discipline which has never been my strong suit – so I do appreciate that, or I did, until today. Today, I just walked – naked if you will. Just me and my podcast. And it was delightful. I wasn’t checking my wrist every so often to see how far I had gone – or how far I had to go. I just walked like in the olden days before Fitbit.

It was a gorgeous spring day – finally – warm and sunny and bursting with colors. I passed the tennis courts on my usual route and saw a tennis ball on the sidewalk in front of me. There were several folks playing doubles on the courts near me and someone must have lobbed one over the fence. I thought I should be a nice person and toss the errant ball back closer to the courts, but I guess I’m not that nice and I decided to pick it up and keep walking. And then I did something I haven’t done in years – I started bouncing the ball while I walked. And gosh darn, it was fun.

tennis ball

Multi-tasking.

So, I kept walking and bouncing my way along and I felt like a 12-year-old – only 12-year-olds don’t really bounce anymore unless it’s on an app. I finished one podcast and started another and saw the time on my phone. I had been walking about an hour and twenty minutes – pretty much my usual trek, but somehow, I had enjoyed it more.

I got back to my car and pondered what to do with the contraband tennis ball. Yep, I’m keeping it – right there in one of the cup holders. I definitely see more bouncing in my future.

I’m also going to try and be more mindful of why I started walking in the first place. There’s a rhythm to distance walking that I find very settling and peaceful. And I often feel connected to the other folks I pass along the way – strangers mostly, but we almost always acknowledge each other with a smile or hello. It makes me feel happy and I don’t have a clue what cable news they watch.

walking each other home

I just hope ya’ll are way better with directions than I am.

The spiritual teacher and author Ram Dass says that on our good days we’re all just walking each other home. I like to think this is true. And I love being outside with the birds and trees and so many delightful discoveries. I started taking pictures on my walks and posting them on Instagram with the tag #walkinginardmore. I often write in my head when I walk, and I love getting lost in the words and images. My intention is for these posts to convey hope and kindness and maybe even a smidge of joy – so many of those precious things that have been stifled for what feels like a very long time.

Here are a few gems that caught my eye over the past several months and they are all way better than BREAKING NEWS:

tulip tree

ardmore church

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ardmore rocker

ardmore peace

I love finding these treasures on my walks and  most days when I finish, I feel more grounded than when I started. That said, I have no plans to kick my Fitbit to the curb any time soon. It helps keep me honest about regular exercise and no harm can come from that. No, I’m just going to try to remember today’s lesson: Walk like no one’s counting.

kindness ardomore

Just do it.

 

 

 

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Desperately seeking Atticus

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I believe her. I will always believe her.

I need your help. I need your help to get through the next couple of days. Probably longer. Probably a lot longer. It’s as simple as that. And I promise to help you, too. The faux FBI investigation of Brett Kavanaugh is “completed”, and he will most certainly be confirmed by the Republican majority in the Senate. And after we scream and rant and weep, we will desperately try to hang on to everything we thought we knew about truth and justice and…kindness.

Kavanaugh’s confirmation was perhaps inevitable, but I had a flicker of hope after Dr. Ford’s wrenchingly raw testimony last Thursday that maybe, just maybe, this seminal moment in our nation’s history would not be viewed in only red and blue lenses. Truth has a crystalline quality – it makes everything more clearly apparent.

That faint hope was decimated Tuesday night when I saw the president of the United States cruelly mock Dr. Ford’s testimony in front of a frothing white crowd who laughed and applauded his unhinged performance. Every time I saw the clip, I could feel my ears flush with white-hot rage. RAGE. What do you do with rage? Where do you put it, so you can kiss your wife goodnight and go to sleep? Sleep. I try to remember what that feels like – a good night’s sleep. Tylenol PM helped me remember on Tuesday night.

Yes, even my sleep aids are blue.

When I woke up Wednesday morning, my rage was gone, vanquished in the dark of night and replaced by a paralyzing hopelessness. My legs felt as heavy as my heart as I tried to start moving through my day. I felt trapped – caged in by despair. I started a dozen tasks and abandoned them all. I finally just sat down in the reading chair in my home office and cried. Not an ugly cry – Lord knows I’m capable of that – but a cry of helplessness. I just did not know what to do to make it – anything – better.

And then the damnedest thing happened – I was resurrected by a post by a friend on Facebook. Okay, I know that sounds a little like a Hallmark movie, but it’s the truth. My friend Kristin lives in the DC area and founded an innovative fundraising company that supports some outstanding non-profit organizations. She’s a chronic do-gooder in her professional and personal life and she’s a smart cookie, too, so I try to pay attention to what she’s saying. This is what she posted yesterday morning:

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Yes, it was Facebook, but it was a lifeline to me. I immediately scanned through my inventory of postcards. Sidebar: My dear Aunt Phyllis sent me a postcard from every place she every traveled and it instilled in me a great love of  handwritten correspondence. I found one that seemed like a good fit and wrote my brief message to Dr. Ford. And I felt better. No, I felt good! And I got to thinking about what Kristin wrote – “to counteract every act of hate with an act of kindness and support.”

This sounded like a feasible plan to me, folks, so I reposted Kristin’s post on my Facebook and Instagram accounts and the posts went moderately viral – at least by non-Kardashian standards. As I write this, almost 500 people have “liked” or commented on the IG post and that makes me feel a lot less helpless than I did yesterday morning.

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And it wasn’t just Kristin. My friend Jimmy is an addiction counselor in long-term recovery. He is honest and open about his journey and I have great respect for him. Yesterday morning he posted this message:

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Followed a bit later by this one:

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Jimmy got some very thoughtful responses including these:

Mr. Rogers had the best advice for trouble times. Always look for the helpers. You will find them all around you and friends that care and people with good hearts. Look in the mirror to start with. We are not alone.

If we don’t transform our pain we will most certainly transmit it. I personally take comfort in the certainty that all things change… The best way to find yourself again is to lose yourself in the service of others.

Take a break and watch Mean Girls – it’s October 3rd! 

Okay, that last one just made me laugh and I thought you could use one, too.

Last night, Jimmy posted the Tiny Buddha meme below and it made my heart sing. That was about all I did yesterday, too, but it was enough.

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#goals

This morning, it was my dear friend Jeff who gave me some hope. I adore Jeff but he would be the first to admit that at times, he can be a crusty curmudgeon and doomsayer. And then he’ll surprise you with a post that’s so optimistic and inspiring that you can almost hear a choir singing. He did it again today. He heard historian Doris Kearns Goodwin on the radio on his long commute into work this morning. She was addressing the great division in our country – liking it to the Civil War. Goodwin painted a pretty grim picture of what’s going on and said that we need a figure to rise above the division and bring us back to the central idea that we all want what’s best for our country.

I’m sure dear Doris would really appreciate Jeff’s summation of her thoughts and would smile at his post:

Things are going to get far worse and I think the chances are high that they’ll never get better. Even so, I will not let these dark days dampen my enthusiasm for the election in November. All we can do is continue to fight and hope that a hero, regardless of if the cape he or she wears is red or blue, emerges from the current dumpster fire and saves us from the abyss.

Jeff is right. All we can do is continue to fight and hope. We are the ones who must save each other. Yes, by all means VOTE and help get out the vote and drive people to vote and ALL of that, but also – be kind. I love Michelle Obama, but I’m not espousing her “When they go low, we go high” mantra – I’m just not that good and I will sometimes still have to bitch slap Lindsey Graham on Twitter, but I can commit to not letting those who do not believe the way I do – in the things that I hold most dear – diminish me. I cannot let my own rage diminish me.

If you’re not familiar with the author and activist Glennon Doyle, you should be. She has been a balm for me of late on social media with her wise words and truth-telling. Today she posted a passage from To Kill A Mockingbird that I have printed out and put on the bulletin board in my office. I will read it over and over again during the next few days, months, however long it takes…

Atticus is trying to explain to his son, Jem, how someone can do the right thing and still lose. Here’s the passage:

“I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you are licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do.”

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Damn. Where is a good Supreme Court nominee when you need one?

We will see this through the way we always have – together.

And I think we will freaking rock a cape. And it might even be seersucker.

cape

One size does not fit all.

 

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What she said.