Sing Together

For the second week in a row, Father Sam called on the 5:30 parishioners to sing out. He called on us to do this because it energizes the musicians. Then, they are no longer just performing. He commented on how all who are leading can tell the difference between feeling like they are performing and feeling like they are getting something back from those with whom they are interacting. He described it as setting them free.

The power of doing something together is amazing. I always get emotional when I hear everyone in a church sing. It doesn't happy all that often. But last night it did again. Not so much during the mass. But afterwards at another remembrance for Mark. With the simple words:

There is a lightThat can overcome the darkness.
There is no darkness
that can overcome the light.

While all this is well and good--what happens when you have people who don't want to sing along. Or more geneallly act together?  The power quickly fades. The light quickly fades. And there may be aloneness and nothing.  Or there may be an opportunity to take the situation head on, figure out what I can change, and make the changes so that the world will be a better place even with some who don't want to act together to make it better.  

That is where optimism, a clear sense of self, and a clear sense of what I have to offer become critical.   

Changing Patterns

This morning, for the very first time that I can remember, I ran with the dog we have had for 2½ years.  We ran for two miles (total of 2138.1) in 17:19—excluding the time for the three times she stopped for various bathroom breaks.  She ran negative splits with me—meaning that the second mile was faster than the first.  It was a very nice experience as I had to both get the dog walked and run just a little bit—and for me two miles is definitely just a little bit.

Other than the ct that I had not done this before, what did it make me ponder this morning? It made my ponder running as an art form.  I realize that some people may find the proposition that running is an art form to be unusual or completely wrong.  But I see it as art.  Why?

Well, there are actually several reasons.  First of all, it inspires me to express myself.  It inspires me to write.  And that is a very important thing to me.  The writing is not always particularly artistic.  But it is my form of creating something new.  Something that no one else has created before.  And while some “paint” with a brush.  And others may “paint” with their music.  I “paint” with my words.

What is even more interesting to me is to think that I, in some ways, paint with my steps on the road.  In fact, I have drawn a course for one person when I sent a card wishing good luck for the Boston marathon.  And I sometimes sketch out the course that I have run just to see what it looks like.  And I have thought about what colors to make the course.  Should I vary the color by speed?  Should I vary the color by how I am feeling?  Should I vary the color by any other characteristic or criterion?  Or should I just draw it out in pencil or pen to show the shape of what I ran rather than trying to make it art.

And, on top of that, the other key question is how to show the steps, if at all?  Obviously, I can draw the course just as a line.  Or, if I wanted to show a course I had run solo, I could show the course with two feet making footprints.  When I run with a partner there would be two sets of footsteps.  On a run like yesterday morning there would be four sets of footprints.  But this morning there would have been on set of human footprints and one set of canine footprints.

Thus, my title—changing patterns.

Changing patterns sometimes is challenging.  It is easy to stick with what I know as habit.  Changing patterns can take a lot of effort.  There is a certain inertia to just doing what I have been doing for some time.  Changing patters requires more thought than just stick with the same old.  Changing patterns requires different thinking.  Changing patterns often requires planning.  And changing patterns requires commitment.

All of this thinking from running with a dog rather than on my own?  Indeed.  Inspired by thinking about how the painting would look if I drew shoes and dogs feet in a pattern around the shape of the course I ran.  And, how would it change my art?  And how would it change the meaning?  And how would it change the experience?  All of these are questions I ask as I run with another—in this case another completely dependent on me—to make us both happy.  Shared happiness is definitely a changed pattern on a morning that otherwise would have been a solo run.  It is a better pattern that I hope to carry into the future on days of very short runs.  And shared happiness is better than alone happiness any time.

For someone who was once seen as quite the introvert that is perhaps the biggest changed pattern.  Relishing shared happiness—even in running.

Two Days Off

I have not moved an inch on my virtual pilgrimage since the last time I wrote on Saturday.  So, I am still 1047 miles from where I started at the beginning of the year.  It is kind of cool that that is 47 miles further than I was at this time last year (as mentioned before).  I decided to take two days off as I didn't want to get up super early to run on the day we drove from Baltimore to Wolfeboro, NH (it took us nearly 11 hours including a stop for lunch, a stop for gas, a stop to orient ourselves near the end, and some traffic tie ups), and I decided that an extra day of getting 7 hours of sleep would be better for me than getting up really early.  I still can get 35 miles during the rest of this week pretty eaisly.  

So, today, other than mentioning the fact that I did not run, I am not going to talk about running.  Today's dots to connect were not steps on the running path.  Today's dots, instead, were mostly walking steps.  Today instead of running with someone I had been training with for several years (no matter who I run with it is usually someone I've known for a while now) but instead, my wife of 22 years.  And the nourishment of the soul--just enjoying presence.

Today was the first day of vacation without having to drive.  We began the day with a relatively late start.  We went to the office of where we are staying fr a donut and some coffee and OJ.  Then, we went to the grocery store.  A big deal?  No.  Romantic?  Not particularly.  But something we did together that we don't usually do together.  Something that we had to make decisions together.  How did we want to plan breakfast?  How many dinners?  What did we want to have?  (Turned out we bought groceries for two dinners so far--tacos and spaghetti.)  How about lunches?  What about beverages?  Did we want to use bottled water?  How about some energy bars?  What about wines to try?  (A sweet Malbec and a local Reisling.)

Then we came back.  Hung out a bit.  Made reservations for the 4th of July dinner dance and cruise on the lake.  Then I made lunch with her help (again, something we don't often do and we did it in the little kithcen in our studio sized condo unit).  The lunch was simple--organic peanut butter and unfiltered honey sandwiches on wheat.

Next we went into town.  Left a little after 1.  Got back just past 5.  The walk from the Windrifter to the edge of "downtown" Wolfeboro is almost exactly a mile.  We went in almost every little store in the downtown area.  Gift stores.  Consignment store.  A store that provided temporary henna tattoos (neither got one) where Sherry bought headbands.  A store with spiritual books--like several that talk about the important of being present in life).  Looked at swimsuits.  Looked at beer.  Looked at cheese.  Bought a maple sugar mead.  After several hours of walking and looking we bought less than 1/4 pound of fudge and split it.  Then we stopped on the way back and bought cold beverages.  Hours of walking together.  Being together.  Buying just one or two things.  Talking to each other.  Talking to sales people and store owners.  It was not so crowded that we ever felt rushed.  It was possible to have a conversation with almost every one.  And we coudl both particiapte in the conversation.

When we got back, we chilled with email for a bit and then I cooked tacos and served the Malbec with dinner.  After dinner we went for ice cream.  Small ice cream meant quite a lot of food.  Finally, we headed to Carry Beach and sat on the edge until the sun was all the way down.  

Spending an entire day together at an easy pace--not rushing anywhere--was a gift.  It is a gift we get all too rarely.  Do we have to go nearly 600 miles to get it?  I hope not in the future.  Would having more such days be helpful?  You bet.  

But I will take every one and count it as something special forever.