Today, I decided not to do my early morning walk with my husband as there has been no dog to walk since Zeke, our dog, died. I enjoy being outside, feeling my body moving, and meeting our neighbors who walk their dogs. David carries dog treats, and the dogs come running to him. It’s fun to see their excitement and eases the absence of Zeke. I really appreciate the dog walkers who have become good friends and make me feel part of a community. I feel quite lucky to have their companionship. I usually walk regardless of the weather, but it’s been very cold and icy. I wear my boots and crampons, which bite into the ice, and use my walking poles for stability, but lately, I worry about falling. Going up the hill takes more effort, and I need to stop a few times to catch my breath and lower my heart rate. I take pride in being mobile and making the effort to work out and stay active, but today, the temperature was 10 degrees Fahrenheit. I was warmly dressed, had my boots and crampons ready by the door, was finishing my coffee; and David was waiting for me to go outside…and I said, “Go without me.”
This was a surprise. Normally, I push myself, but walking in this weather has been a strain, and today, I didn’t feel like it. I’m walking slower and lagging behind the pact of people and canines, and I wouldn’t say I like that. It’s less fun. I find it difficult to acknowledge my fear, but I have learned acknowledging limitations is necessary, and my fear is realistic. Or is it? I’m using my walking sticks. My arms are getting stronger, and I am going to physical therapy to strengthen my right hip. I hope to be less reliant on my poles and be able to feel secure walking without them, but progress is slow. I ask myself when to push and when to pause. What is wise? Do I feel loss, gain, or both? Do I give myself a choice? This morning, saying, “Go without me.” felt freeing. I used the time to meditate. It was delicious.
There is a poem I sometimes read to my stress reduction classes on the value of being able to say no. Reading it always makes me smile. It’s “The Art of Disappearing”
By Naomi Shihab Nye.
“…Walk around feeling like a leaf.
Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time.”
Sometimes, I forget that there are choices. I feel fortunate that I am to be able to walk. I also appreciate having the freedom to discern when I don’t have to. Do I need an excuse (it’s icy), or can I just say to myself, I don’t feel like it today—and not interpret it as bad or giving up.
My energy is more limited than it used to be. I wouldn’t say I like accepting this, but it is a fact, so I do my best to gauge what is important and plan my day around it. After the morning walk, I sometimes have to sit and rest, which decreases my time or mental clarity to meditate and write. Today, I had the energy for both. This afternoon, I will go to a memorial for my husband’s friend and be able to be truly present. I feel good that I’ll be able to celebrate his life and sad that he can’t be there to enjoy it with his dear ones.
How lucky we are to engage in life and have choices in living it.