This is a week of walking
walking
Ramble
How often do we allow ourselves to just ramble?
Ramble. I’m looking at the dictionary, it means to walk for pleasure in the countryside. Or to talk at length in a confused, inconsequential way. Or in the case of plants for them to send out long shoots in all directions and take over the place.
For me, all three definitions makes me think of aimlessly wandering with no direction or objective or task in mind. Just moving, and taking joy in that simple pleasure.
As I notice the slow and subtle changes in the seasons, as the dregs of summer linger and yet the nights are drawing in with a chill, I take the time to get outdoors and ramble. Yes in nature if I can get it, through a park, forest or along the shoreline. Or just around my suburban streets, as there are still plenty gardens in bloom.
Wandering without clock watching, or rushing from one place to other, is a luxury I’m in no hurry to give up or compromise on because it always lifts my spirits, reminds me I’m alive and what a beautiful gift life is.
Adrift in the wonderness, adrift in that carefree feeling and breathing of a ramble is so much more bountiful at this time of year, my favourite time of year, autumn. Blink and I’m afraid I could miss the glorious display of colours; golds, oranges and reds, and textures; those damp silky mushrooms, to the slinky, slick wet leaves.
I tell a lie. Plants don’t ramble without a purpose. That’s me projecting. When a plant shoots out roots, shoots and branches anywhere and everywhere, it’s not the case of anywhere and everywhere, because they are seeking out light. They are bramble rambling into space and light. They are on a mission. And this I salute. Because when I ramble I’m seeking that same lightness. In spirit, in mood, in physicality. I want to be the light. I want to be light.
Update – Mamathon
As I was saying over in the introduction to the recent episode released from The Earth Sea Love Podcast, apart from the year flying by, May was the month that kicked my butt. It’s officially going down as the worst month of 2023, so far for me. But hey I’m still here to tell the tale and I’m grateful for that.
I have to give some credit to still being here and getting through the trenches down to my walking practice of May. I completed the Mamathon as hosted by Girltrek and clocked up 53 miles. Of course I did more walking than that in May but these are the miles that were recorded with my Garmin watch. Just trying to keep everything recorded so I knew when I hit the miles, I knew I was banking them towards this challenge.
I’m so glad I took up this task. I started it with Miss Ella and finished it with Miss Ella yesterday afternoon. Even though she was full of cold she joined me to mark the occasion. I also went over on my right foot again. Same place / same injury as the one that stopped me completing the West Highland Way last year. But I’ve been icing and elevating it as well as walking on it today. A bit swollen and bruised but okay to walk on.
And I’m pleased about that as I would be most upset if I was out of action again just when I feel as if I’ve gotten into some kind of walking routine. Girltrek are running their Black History Bootcamp podcast this year again, which entails 21 days of meditations of Black stories are shared. So I’m just gonna keep on walking in June to the sounds of this podcast and clock up some more miles.
The West Highland Way is on again this year. Birthday week with dear friend, Alex, we’re walking the way together. More details to follow. Already excited about completing it. See what I did there? The power of positive energy. It usually get’s me through. Got me through May. Thank you very much.
Happy June.
Meditative Walks
Thank goodness for the long light nights. They’ve been pulling me outdoors. Even after full days of activities, I’m finding solace in evening walks. Alone with my thoughts. Alone with my feelings.
I appreciate these spaces and places I roam. Allowing my senses to land upon some beauty. Some part of nature to hold my attention. To hold my hope.
Thank you.
Evening Walks – Mamathon Continues
As it stands I’ve completed 20 miles of the 52.4 miles for the month of May. Nearly half way there and not even half way through the month yet. So pleased with how I’m moving.
I’ve mentioned my mum and walking , but she’s not my only inspiration when it comes to putting one foot in front of another.
At this time of year when growing up in Bradford, May light nights and rising temperatures, after tea ( as I am a Yorkshire lass!), each evening we would go out for walks. Dad and Mum, sis and me.
Of course I didn’t want to do it. It felt like a punishment. A cruel exercise is working out our energy before bedtime. How I hated going to be in the light nights.
We set out from our maisonette flat, take the bridge over the dual carriage way, to walk up the hill past the textile factories and into the rabbit warren estates of ‘Little Jamaica’.
My only joys of these evening walks, we’re picking up scraps of fur from the toy making factories and lining my pockets with them so I could stroke their softness while I walked.
The only other joy was if we called in Dad and Mum’s friend Beverley who lived over on the other side of the road, who had a son called Ivor, that I quite liked. He had Thunderbirds toys I liked to play with too.
These evening walks were something I endured. Something to get through. Now as I’m older, appreciating the light nights for walks out, I’m inflicting the same ritual on my daughter when she’s staying with me. Ignoring her complaints and marching her out the door.
And on those evenings that I walk alone, covering more miles and sinking deeper into my body and the present moment, no longer needed are scraps of fur in my pocket to keep me walking.
The act of walking itself, being outside with all nature has to offer, with heart and soul open is enough to feel joy and gratitude and light.
May (SEA)Poetry
I wrote a little something after my walk yesterday in the blustery wind/ sea spray of Whitley Bay.
cold seeps into my teeth
grin in the wind/ whistles
through my ears. lost. pain/
with the tide out/ boulders revealed
i prefer the bay full/ full to the brim
like my love for the seas/ me /and you/
Mamathon 2023
GIRLTREK PRESENTS MAMATHON 2023
A Walking Challenge Honoring Mothers and Mother Figures
“I pledge to go the distance for my mom or loved one in the month of May by walking 52.4 miles in her honour.”
This June, if my mum was still alive she’s be 81 years young. She was put on this earth to mother. If she could, she would have had a house full of kids. She lived her life through the kids she birthed, fostered and adopted and the grand babies she got the chance to hold before she was taken from us far too soon.
Even though she died at the ripe young age of 57, in her life time she’d already gone twice the distance, twice as hard and given twice as much love, care and time.
This May, GirlTrek, the largest national health movement for Black women and girls, is hosting Mamathon 2023, a walking challenge, where women pledge to walk 52.4 miles (about 2.5 miles a day) during the month of May to honor their mother or a caregiver in their lives.
“Walk in honor of a woman in your life. Walk because you are a mom and want to honor your motherhood by doing something healthy for yourself. Invite your friends and family to participate with you. This is how we grow the movement and spread joy and healing to the Black women we love.” said T. Morgan Dixon, GirlTrek cofounder.
With this in mind and as my mission for May, I walked out today with my daughter. We covered nearly 2 miles, most of which was full of chit-chat and memories of my mum and childhood. We’ll walk again tomorrow.
Rain or shine, my mum would get ready each day and walk out to the village store or post office. Running errands, but she knew the value of moving her body. Even while overweight and arthritic, she managed to walk down and up the steep bank and steps, from and to home. She put in the effort to walk the mile or so and didn’t complain in the process.
Sometimes, I forget the lessons and wisdom she passed on to me through her practices rather than her tellings. I’m doing this challenge to honour my mum and involve my daughter also.
I’m doing this challenge because it’s healing through the bloodline. Because it’s a healthy tradition. Because it’s impossible to not be transformed by the end.
Pond, Reeds, Sky
Writing for Life and Light
The days of March are blowing by quickly. Blink and I might miss them. I decided about a week ago now to not allow the present to slip on by unmarked.
I want to say probably over 20 years now, I have kept Morning Pages, in some form or other, inspired from Julia Cameron‘s The Artist’s Way.
I came to the pages broken, after my mother’s death, going through a difficult patch while full-time English teaching and trying to be the perfect wife and mother.
I was coming apart at the seams, trying to be everything to everyone and nothing to myself. I was hating on myself for not being good enough at anything, and trying to prove myself in an environment where I was always going to come up short.
But I didn’t know that then. I was on the sick from school, resting and re-evaluating my life and The Artist’s Way came into my life through community creative writing classes where I’d go weekly, grabbing a mocha coffee at Morrison’s beforehand. I felt like I was playing hooky from school. And in a way I was.
With practicing Morning Pages, I found a space where I could be. Allow all my mixed emotions and thoughts out in a safe space and not be judged or fail. I couldn’t fail at Morning Pages as all I had to do was keep my pen moving on the page, three pages, and never look back.
A window opened inside of me. Into a dream world. Into my childhood. Into my joys and pleasures. And I came to realise that I wasn’t happy with the life I was living. And change had to happen and happen straight away. I was impatient to start living my life on my own terms.
After being on the sick for half the year, I went back to school in the June. Had the summer holidays, went back after them and handed in my notice so I could finished in the December of that year. I didn’t have a net but I jumped anyway. That was 2003.
Fast forward to March 2023, and I’m marking the present, my life in all it’s fucked up glory, by working through Julia Cameron’s Write For Life.
Four things are the foundation of this creativity boost for the soul; Morning Pages, a daily quota towards my writing project, a daily walk and a weekly artist date.
I’ll follow up this post with a breakdown of what each one of these things entails. I’m just place marking this process here for a minute.
The image above is me out on my daily walk, with the sun shining but the wind blowing into my face. Nah, that’s not my new hairstyle but the fur on my hood. But can you see my inner shine. My light. That light comes from living in the moment. Marking the days with the simple delights of being present. Here and now.
Living Wild Studios 