Showing posts with label Walk. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Walk. Show all posts
Tuesday
Afoot and Light-Hearted
I know that words in stories and poetry can hold different meanings with the passage of time, but I have been stunned by this little poem by Walt Whitman. I have read it many time in the last 2 years - and many times in the last month especially. It is like a crystal. It changes colors depending on the light.
The poem was given to me by a friend as I trained for the breast cancer walk in Denver. Walking was my life at that time. Walking was how I spent all of my spare time. As I was training the poem provided inspiring words about walking and enjoying nature. Its meaning was clear. It was a walking poem.
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
About a month ago I was packing up my office. I was hurriedly filling boxes with my professional files and photographs I had had around my desk. The library was closed and I was the only one in the building. In the silence I took a moment to pick up the poem and read it. I was deeply sad and thinking about the chaos of the last few months at the College. The poem took on a wistful tone with a forward motion march.
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
The friend who originally gave me the poem placed it on my desk a few weeks ago right before she had surgery. I was afraid to read the poem because I thought it was about being healthy and free. But I read the poem again. It made me realize how walking in the present moment is all we really have, and how even in deep sorrow my heart could feel a special kind of lightness, even in the midst of fear.
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
I read the poem last week thinking about the hope I have for my uncertain future and the uncertain future of so many people I care about. The poem was no longer about walking at all, it was about shedding all that is unimportant and choosing to make life good despite the difficult times.
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
I read the poem again today, celebrating my friend's news of a clear bill of health. With such relief I read the poem knowing that we are healthy and free and so fortunate to have both good health and freedom.
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
The poem was given to me by a friend as I trained for the breast cancer walk in Denver. Walking was my life at that time. Walking was how I spent all of my spare time. As I was training the poem provided inspiring words about walking and enjoying nature. Its meaning was clear. It was a walking poem.
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
About a month ago I was packing up my office. I was hurriedly filling boxes with my professional files and photographs I had had around my desk. The library was closed and I was the only one in the building. In the silence I took a moment to pick up the poem and read it. I was deeply sad and thinking about the chaos of the last few months at the College. The poem took on a wistful tone with a forward motion march.
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
The friend who originally gave me the poem placed it on my desk a few weeks ago right before she had surgery. I was afraid to read the poem because I thought it was about being healthy and free. But I read the poem again. It made me realize how walking in the present moment is all we really have, and how even in deep sorrow my heart could feel a special kind of lightness, even in the midst of fear.
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
I read the poem last week thinking about the hope I have for my uncertain future and the uncertain future of so many people I care about. The poem was no longer about walking at all, it was about shedding all that is unimportant and choosing to make life good despite the difficult times.
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
I read the poem again today, celebrating my friend's news of a clear bill of health. With such relief I read the poem knowing that we are healthy and free and so fortunate to have both good health and freedom.
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
Wednesday
The Best Shower Ever
While showering one early morning this past week after a restless night of little sleep, I looked up and saw a pink bottle of Avon shower gel hanging from the shower head. The bottle brought back a flood of memories about an unexpected series of events that were soothed by the best shower I have ever had in my life.
Several years ago I walked in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in Denver. The first day of the walk started off in a normal way. The opening ceremony began at the crack of dawn when walk organizers welcomed all of the walkers and supporters. An armada of tough smiling men wearing pink and riding roaring motorcycles lead the parade of walkers through the park. And then we walked. We walked all day.
The walk is a 39 mile walk, with 26 miles walked the first day and an overnight camping stay at a distant park. As we were finishing our final miles on that first day I was filled with a mix of emotions. I was excited to finish the walk, but I also had a feeling of impending doom as we made our way toward the very park where students at Columbine High School had evacuated during the shooting spree years before. As the finish line came into site, the dark feelings began to lift, and we became excited to see our friends and family waiting for us at the park's finishing line.
Exhausted, we worked to set up our tenting sites for the night and prepare for showers and dinner. My friend Jackie had driven from Santa Fe and was one of the people waiting at the park that evening. She graciously set up the tent where Joel and I were going to spend the night while I went to wait in line to use a shower. As I waited in line, dark black clouds appeared on the horizon bringing back back the feeling of impending doom. The clouds seem to come in faster than any storm I had ever seen and lightening began striking close by. Despite the storm, taking a shower after walking all day in the sun seemed like the most important thing in the world. I stood in line and waited. Soon the lightening was hitting very close and people who were thinking on our behalf evacuated the showers and told us to take cover.
I ran back to my tent site where Jackie was finishing the set-up. She had just rolled out the sleeping bags, and the tent looked so comfortable. As she finished up the final work she crawled out of the tent to see the storm clouds coming over. I kept thinking, "we have done a long day of walking for something so great, how can something bad happen to us now. There is no way something bad can happen. We are here today only for good." And then the big rain and wind started.
In order to secure the tent, Jackie and I jumped in to weigh it down. We zipped the door closed and waited. As the rain came hard we could hear people running by our tent. Then the hail started. We could hear people screaming. We could feel the hail pelting the tent as we braced ourselves against the sides to keep it from rolling. We were scared. It felt like someone was throwing baseballs at us, and we only had the thin protection of the tent for safety. I remember looking at Jackie. Her hair was wet and she wore a nervous smile. We looked at each other and laughed. We were soaking wet and stretched out from head to toe trying to protect the integrity of the tent. As we held down the tent and laughed we felt other tents hitting us and rolling by as the storm delivered its full punch.
We survived the storm and crawled out of the tent to find destruction all around us. By the end of the evening most of the tenters had to leave the campground and find other accommodations because their sleeping bags were wet -- or missing all together. Because Jackie and I stayed, we were able to keep the tent fairly dry allowing Joel and me to spend the night at the park campground. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do -- staying in the tent through the storm -- but I have never been happier to sleep in a tent with a wet pillow and wearing dirty clothes. Joel eventually made it to the campground too, and even though he was sick, we slept through the night without catastrophe.
I didn't get to take a shower that night. In the end the shower that seemed so important could wait. I remember thinking even moments after the storm that I was lucky that I had a friend with me and we were both lucky to have survived the dangerous summer storm. The next morning, I walked past smashed and overturned tents to the showers. Because so many people had spent the night elsewhere there wasn't a single person in line for the showers. Actually, there wasn't a single person taking a shower that morning, I was all alone. While cleaning off I used the pink bottle of shower gel that had been given to all walk participants. I must have used half a bottle that morning scrubbing off dirt, enjoying the simple warm water, the clean smell of soap, and an invigorating feeling of survival. It was the best shower ever, and I enjoyed every minute of it.
Even today I am so grateful to Jackie. I am grateful that she stayed with me holding down the tent. I was grateful to reconnect with Joel that night, and that we were able to camp together in our small damp tent. And I felt so grateful that I was healthy, healthy enough to continue walking the next day and complete the 13 miles of walking.
With the amazing stress of the closing of the College at hand, stress that has lead to physical and mental exhaustion, laughing with coworkers because crying seems too scary -- I am reminded of this other event I was fortunate to survive. I am grateful for my friends and family who are helping me hold down the tent. I am grateful to have Joel with me every night after both of us come home after hard days at work. And most importantly, I feel lucky to be healthy. I can't wait for the last leg of this 13 mile walk to end!
If you want to follow the story of 2 Avon Walks, you can visit the Walking Blog at this link , or go right to the story of the day of the storm at this link .
Several years ago I walked in the Avon Walk for Breast Cancer in Denver. The first day of the walk started off in a normal way. The opening ceremony began at the crack of dawn when walk organizers welcomed all of the walkers and supporters. An armada of tough smiling men wearing pink and riding roaring motorcycles lead the parade of walkers through the park. And then we walked. We walked all day.
The walk is a 39 mile walk, with 26 miles walked the first day and an overnight camping stay at a distant park. As we were finishing our final miles on that first day I was filled with a mix of emotions. I was excited to finish the walk, but I also had a feeling of impending doom as we made our way toward the very park where students at Columbine High School had evacuated during the shooting spree years before. As the finish line came into site, the dark feelings began to lift, and we became excited to see our friends and family waiting for us at the park's finishing line.
Exhausted, we worked to set up our tenting sites for the night and prepare for showers and dinner. My friend Jackie had driven from Santa Fe and was one of the people waiting at the park that evening. She graciously set up the tent where Joel and I were going to spend the night while I went to wait in line to use a shower. As I waited in line, dark black clouds appeared on the horizon bringing back back the feeling of impending doom. The clouds seem to come in faster than any storm I had ever seen and lightening began striking close by. Despite the storm, taking a shower after walking all day in the sun seemed like the most important thing in the world. I stood in line and waited. Soon the lightening was hitting very close and people who were thinking on our behalf evacuated the showers and told us to take cover.
I ran back to my tent site where Jackie was finishing the set-up. She had just rolled out the sleeping bags, and the tent looked so comfortable. As she finished up the final work she crawled out of the tent to see the storm clouds coming over. I kept thinking, "we have done a long day of walking for something so great, how can something bad happen to us now. There is no way something bad can happen. We are here today only for good." And then the big rain and wind started.
In order to secure the tent, Jackie and I jumped in to weigh it down. We zipped the door closed and waited. As the rain came hard we could hear people running by our tent. Then the hail started. We could hear people screaming. We could feel the hail pelting the tent as we braced ourselves against the sides to keep it from rolling. We were scared. It felt like someone was throwing baseballs at us, and we only had the thin protection of the tent for safety. I remember looking at Jackie. Her hair was wet and she wore a nervous smile. We looked at each other and laughed. We were soaking wet and stretched out from head to toe trying to protect the integrity of the tent. As we held down the tent and laughed we felt other tents hitting us and rolling by as the storm delivered its full punch.
We survived the storm and crawled out of the tent to find destruction all around us. By the end of the evening most of the tenters had to leave the campground and find other accommodations because their sleeping bags were wet -- or missing all together. Because Jackie and I stayed, we were able to keep the tent fairly dry allowing Joel and me to spend the night at the park campground. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do -- staying in the tent through the storm -- but I have never been happier to sleep in a tent with a wet pillow and wearing dirty clothes. Joel eventually made it to the campground too, and even though he was sick, we slept through the night without catastrophe.
I didn't get to take a shower that night. In the end the shower that seemed so important could wait. I remember thinking even moments after the storm that I was lucky that I had a friend with me and we were both lucky to have survived the dangerous summer storm. The next morning, I walked past smashed and overturned tents to the showers. Because so many people had spent the night elsewhere there wasn't a single person in line for the showers. Actually, there wasn't a single person taking a shower that morning, I was all alone. While cleaning off I used the pink bottle of shower gel that had been given to all walk participants. I must have used half a bottle that morning scrubbing off dirt, enjoying the simple warm water, the clean smell of soap, and an invigorating feeling of survival. It was the best shower ever, and I enjoyed every minute of it.
Even today I am so grateful to Jackie. I am grateful that she stayed with me holding down the tent. I was grateful to reconnect with Joel that night, and that we were able to camp together in our small damp tent. And I felt so grateful that I was healthy, healthy enough to continue walking the next day and complete the 13 miles of walking.
With the amazing stress of the closing of the College at hand, stress that has lead to physical and mental exhaustion, laughing with coworkers because crying seems too scary -- I am reminded of this other event I was fortunate to survive. I am grateful for my friends and family who are helping me hold down the tent. I am grateful to have Joel with me every night after both of us come home after hard days at work. And most importantly, I feel lucky to be healthy. I can't wait for the last leg of this 13 mile walk to end!
If you want to follow the story of 2 Avon Walks, you can visit the Walking Blog at this link , or go right to the story of the day of the storm at this link .
Walk!
Librarians are forming a walking team for the Making Strides Breast Cancer Walk in Albuquerque
- Meet new people and connect with librarians around the state.
- Help educate people in your life about cancer (just telling people you are participating in this walk opens doors to important discussions).
- Raise funds that will help with research, treatment, and education.
- This is one of the most beautiful walks in
Val Nye
Library Walking Team from 2003
Tuesday
Walking
I have decided not to participate in a long walk in 2008. BUT I strongly encourage anyone who is even remotely interested in walking, to pursue one of these walking experiences. If you would like any training or fund raising advice, contact me through the comment section of this post.
I walked in 2006 and 2007 in the 39+ breast cancer walks in Denver. Both experiences were events that changed my life. I documented the events and most of my training online. You can follow this link to my walking blog.
For those of you in the Southwest, the "Denver walk" will be in Keystone this year at the end of June. It should be a beautiful walk. I am a little surprised they have chosen a location at such a high altitude, but all along the route there will be food, drink, and medical support should you need it. They will be ready for walkers! You can follow this link to more information about the Keystone walk.
There is a 3-Day walk in Arizona. You can follow this link to more information about the 3-Day walks.
Both organizations raise money for really worthy causes and organizations.
Training - while it is definitely a commitment, but it isn't impossible.
Fundraising - while you are required to raise a lot of money, people are generous and there is a lot of fundraising support and ideas available from both organizations.
Monday
Pedestrian Sundays!
The exhibit with my photograph in it, in Toronto opened on Sunday. I am waiting to see if anyone posts pictures.
The blog on which the call for artwork was posted is called Toronto Spacing. I have been following the blog for about 2 months. It is a great blog focusing on events in Toronto. I haven't been to Toronto, and probably won't visit for some time - but it seems like an amazing city.
One of the great initiatives in various neighborhoods in Toronto is Pedestrian Sundays. They close down streets in areas of town to allow people to walk and enjoy the neighborhoods and markets without cars. San Fransisco has done something in recent months at Golden Gate Park called Healthy Saturdays. I think this section of Golden Gate Park closes on Sundays too.
Wouldn't it be great if a large section of downtown Santa Fe closed during one day of the week during the summer? Not just the plaza, but all the streets around, so you could ride your bike, walk, or roller blade through the streets. I think it would encourage community - and what city couldn't benefit from community?
Friday
Thursday
Walking with Mom in the Bosque
Mom took me on one of her favorite walks along the river today. Here are some of the pictures.
We started off at the Montano Pueblo Trailhead where a firefighter and chainsaw artist, Mark Chavez, has created sculptures out of trees that were burned in 2003 in a bosque fire.
La Llorona looking up into a spooky tree.
Mom looking in the trees for porcupines. We didn't see porcupines but we did see some giant green frogs, fish, and maybe an otter. We were also chased down the trail by a roadrunner.
We started off at the Montano Pueblo Trailhead where a firefighter and chainsaw artist, Mark Chavez, has created sculptures out of trees that were burned in 2003 in a bosque fire.
La Llorona looking up into a spooky tree.
Mom looking in the trees for porcupines. We didn't see porcupines but we did see some giant green frogs, fish, and maybe an otter. We were also chased down the trail by a roadrunner.
Tuesday
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