Stillness
Spring has arrived, at least for a time, here in Utah. For the past four days the temperatures in the valley have soared into the sixties, and although the wind has been a little brisk, there is a definite smell of the coming season in the air. When I heard the forecast last week I was overjoyed by the prospect of spending the weekend walking in warmth. I dreamt of long walks, eight to ten miles a day, exploring new areas on foot.
Then Thursday morning came. I awoke with the tell-tale sign of my first cold of the season, that scratchy irritated throat that always proceeds my getting sick. My husband had come down with this two weeks prior, and I had foolishly thought I had been able to dodge his germs. In fact, I had been feeling pretty smug about it. By Friday I had hit a brick wall. I came home from work that evenings and crawled under a blanket on the couch, telling my husband I had been waiting for this moment since getting out of bed that morning. I was still confident that by Saturday, or the very latest Sunday, I would be over the worst of this bug, even though it had knocked him for a loop for a solid ten days.
Saturday came with no such luck. I was as miserable as the day before. We ran a few errands and I was totally wiped out. On Sunday my husband decided to go skiing. I was meeting friends for lunch. I still had hopes of getting in a three to five miler by the end of the day, after all there was the bonus of an extra hour of daylight.
I returned from lunch by mid-afternoon. My energy was zapped. Maybe if I rested for a bit it would return. The house was quiet, no television, no radio. This is such an uncommon occurence in our house, my husband always has something playing in the background. I grabbed a good book and a cup of tea. I sat in a chair beside a sunny window. My cat, Lilly, curled up on my lap. There we stayed for the next three hours. We were both extremely content. Content to just be still.
The walk never did happen. Looking back I realize now that I had been fighting off that cold for more than a week before it finally took hold. I had just been denying it to myself. It took being knocked upside the head to make me slow down and catch on to the fact that my body needed something. Rest.
There will be other beautiful weekends. Although next weekend’s prediction calls for snow and rain, I’ve walked in snow and rain before. I don’t melt, and rainy days can be wonderful in their own right. More perfect spring days will be here soon, the green tips of the daffodils and tulips pushing up through the ground impart that promise. This was just the sneak preview. I can wait for the gala event. This past weekend was a gift, just not the gift I had originally anticipated.
a walking life 