. . . and snowed in.
Most of the rest of this day will be spent dealing with the hand winter has dealt us without falling down and breaking another bone. (Broke left wrist last February falling on black ice.)
Greatly appreciated the past two weeks in the dead of winter, during which I mused my way through lots of old paperwork, to discard some, keep some, and send a few very specific, esoteric items to two people who might appreciate them. Emailed them both first, and they both said YES! — excited. So that felt good.
But the main benefit of that paperwork exercise, which I have been working on periodically for a number of years now, is that it stirs up old memories, sometimes ones I had forgotten about entirely! And, at this “advanced” age (82), I find myself feeling so very grateful that I was internally guided to record, in one way or another, so very many of my life’s experiences. Each memory is like a jewel, to be identified, recognized, and appreciated, not just for its intrinsic value, but for how it radiates out, to illuminate and reconfigure ever- widening contexts of meaning.
How very fortunate I am to be a consciously aging crone, not just mentally, but emotionally, spiritually, and physically, as well; I am the rare being who, for over two decades now, has spent two full hours daily on what I call “physical culture:” walking yoga, chikung, taichi.
No wonder I don’t “do” allopathic medicine (except for orthopedics and real emergencies). I am the one in charge of my own health.
Indeed, when I think of how I’ve been working holistically with my mind/body/soul/spirit as an integrated system, for what is it now, 50 years? Something like that. Actually more, if I include my decision to refuse a ride and instead walk home two miles after working 8 hours daily at my first and only summer wage slave job as a 16-year-old. By the time I arrived home, my utter fury at having spent 8 hours at what was, for me, a frustrating, boring task (retyping, on a manual typewriter, a nurse’s manual in a room by myself with a big round clock on the wall), would be utterly spent, the body’s fast, rhythmic movement working it through until done. And what’s truly significant here, I NOTICED that walking home helped me; that this way I could process (though I wouldn’t have used the word “process” back in 1958) and thus temporarily eliminate, the ever-arising internal fiery energy that if not consciously utilized, degenerated into rage.
Thus, from that time on, I have always walked; as an extremely intense, fiery person (double Sagittarian — Sun and Ascendant — with pushy Mars also in that sign, opposite eruptive Uranus) walking three to five miles daily has truly saved my life.
Until today. Puppy Scampi refuses to go on a walk with me through the deep snow. I’ve decided to take his advice, and will instead use the internal energy build-up shoveling snow.
