The wind-carried beauty of Tuesday's 10 miler morphed into today's grueling slog. The impetus of big dreams devolves into the daily grind. Motion of opposites are spinning fast now, as we go slipping, as if losing the rhythm of the change. We have beat ourselves into a stew of impasse; at one moment perfected vision, the next, fears and trepidations all around. I marvel at how either side of my body can harbor its own distinct characteristics; that part which is full of knots, this one with the chronic ache in my hip. How the run consists of the long distance attempt to balance them out, make them talk to each other, cowork their rhythm into some harmony of moving through time and space. The time of our spacial occupation has shifted, is shifting again. We remember the essence but not the point we meant to make. We sense the meaning, but lose the particulars. Does it matter anyway? The certainty that evolves us into our future has already gone on ahead. The field is large. All the parties in all their configurations, from ultra runner to newbie; we all take the course together. No matter how long, how challenging, everyone comes in to the finish. Waiting there is the satisfaction of accomplishment, arrival, completion, pride in following our gut, riding our spirit home. What begins for us then is the Mystery. For the New Life has quietly opened a way. And as playfully as children, we fall into it as deftly as we step across the line.
No comments:
Post a Comment