The hyper sensitivity of awareness I have towards how my body feels in relation to my space. Acutely in tune with every kink in my bodies fluid mobility. I can’t help but think about the fragility of it all. The way some days seem to inextricably strip me of my fragmented sense of purpose.
The way small compounding discomforts break down my clarity. I think there is strength in admitting to myself that I feel weak and insignificant in relation to my surroundings. The way fatigue can intertwine itself into my ambitions, inhibiting my ability to reach beyond my perceived limitations.
I have been trying to better focus on reframing my mindset. I haven’t really been focusing on the present. Rather I’ve just been going through the motions, getting the work done. There is discontinuity, for my mind is ahead of where I plant my feet. For through this I haven’t been as grateful for the generosity and kindness family, friends, and strangers have extended my way.
I never truly know what each day will bring. The mid Atlantic drained my mental. A region cloaked in subtle beauty’s, small communities, monotony, and easy resupply. As I push through this final month I am going to try to better appreciate the opportunity, I am thankful for any time that I can spend in places that make me feel whole. I feel at ease in the Northeast, even through the discomfort I love this land and I love how immersed I feel among it all. It’s a constant reach for mastery…trying to remain centered.
Finding home in the fleeting moments woven into our memories. I will continue taking small steps, I will appreciate suffering when it arises, I will try to see the best in people, I will meet kindness with kindness.
Work not to start appreciating what you have until it is stripped from you, but instead work to treat everyday like you will never get it back. Which in a fated reality is quite true. Walking quiets this anxiety induced introspection. The direction you move is all that matters. Putting one foot in front of the other. From this point of view, it is all quite simple.
Day 65: NOBO mileage: 1,508
Daily average: 23.2
Of all the things I wondered about on this land, I wondered the hardest about the seduction of certain geographies that feel like home — not by story or blood but merely by their forms and colors. How our perceptions are our only internal map of the world, how there are places that claim you and places that warn you away. How you can fall in love with the light.