I'm having one of those days when I'm a little on edge. It's been a bit of a stressful week, and I have a lot of nervous energy. I'm not really compelled to do much but write right now, though I kind of have writer's blah. Not writer's block—I can think of plenty to write about. I just kind of don't feel like doing it. I know what energy I'll have to tap into to really work, and I'm a little apprehensive of going there right now. I'm not sure I trust myself to do it right.
Not writing, not working, not playing... what to do? I could eat, but that would make me feel worse. This 90+ pound (so far) journey has taught me not to eat when I feel anything but hungry. I still have days when I want to stuff my belly with emotions. I try really, really hard not to give into that.
Walking, and later a good, hard free-weight workout, became a great alternative to food. It wasn't until last fall that I really figured this out. As usual, it took a good long while of my kicking and screaming before I learned my lesson, before I realized how much better and different I could feel if I didn't feed my anxieties. I have no idea how many miles I've walked now, and I really don't care. What I care about is the time it's given me to plug into my iPod, to plug into my own head, and work out my issues, even if I was not thinking and then thinking and then overthinking every damn step of the way.
So today I was feeling all antsy, and I kept thinking about food. "Screw that!" I thought. "I'm going for a walk." I headed to the small, quiet park near home and plugged in.
What I choose to listen to while I'm working out is often a reflection of where my psyche is at that given time. I have certain playlists and artists that I prefer, usually because of their energy level. Today I couldn't decide, so I hit SHUFFLE ALL SONGS.
It started okay. Murray Head, "One Night in Bangkok". Followed by Liz Phair's "Flower", which is not high energy but which I love inappropriately. Afghan Whigs followed by the Twilight Singers—double teamed by Greg Dulli, SWEET! Then some Led Zeppelin, then the Beatles, neither of which I would've chosen, but I agreed with myself that I wouldn't change the song, no matter what.
Then it happened. This one, particular song came on. It's one of the songs that helped propel me, day after day, when I started walking. I can remember exactly where I was the first ten times I heard it. A perfect fall breeze picked up and reminded me of exactly where I was standing at the other park the first day I did five miles, the day a very specific phone call and text (in the middle of that walk) sent me down a very different path that would eventually lead to Muchness and Light.
It's a song I love, obviously. But today there was a strange poignancy that snuck up on me and almost dropped me to my knees. I wanted to stop in my tracks and cry. I didn't. I kept walking, one purple-Nike-clad foot in front of the other, until the song was over and the iPod shuffled on to Van Morrison.
There will always be those songs, the ones that drop me back into some memory, unexpected and bittersweet. There will always be the memorable places and conversations and whatever, but for me the strongest memories are distinctly tied to music. I can't stop, though, just because something reminds me of a moment that used to be mine. Those moments, those memories, are the path that brought me to Here, but they're from a place where I can never go back. They're from a lifetime that doesn't even seem like mine anymore.
Van Morrison was okay. "And It Stoned Me". The irony was palpable, but I pushed through it and waited for the next song, focusing on the rhythm of my stride. I felt the strength of me, of my body and my mind, propelling me forward, one step at a time along my path.
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