STUFF
THANKFUL FRIDAY ON A THURSDAY
When the dog walking alarm went off Monday morning, I could still hear rain hitting my window and thunder rolling overhead. So, I rolled over and Josephine and I snuggled back down into bed until about six. This is the usual time when she starts tapping me with a paw. She isn’t tapping me because she needs to go out. She’s tapping me because she wants breakfast. I got up to make both of those things happen and when I let her out the back, I noticed that sky was clear. Even though everything was drippy outside, you could tell that the day was going to be pleasant. When Josephine and I headed back inside, I considered riding my bicycle to work. The scooter is off limits until after Wednesday. The back tire condition had reached the point where Michael had threatened to hide my scooter key. He said something about learning something from Chris and how he knows to hide both sets of keys. Chris hadn’t anticipated that I would use the scooter key that I was told never to use (or lose). Desperate times call for desperate measures. But Michael learned a lesson in the process. So my choices for getting to work right now are bicycle or car.
As I stepped into the shower, I was debating on what choice to make. I knew that because of my schedule and weather that Monday would be the only day I could ride my bicycle to work. This is not an encouragement for me. If I can’t ride the bicycle on multiple days to work, I tend to give up right at the start. My inner brat teen comes out and says “What’s the point of riding at all?!?” Then the brat teen rolls her eyes and sighs heavily about the hassle of getting the bicycle out of the crowded garage. Michael tested out the dog bike trailer last week and it’s not in a collapsed state, but shoved slightly behind my bicycle. My inner brat teen slouched her shoulders thinking about the effort needed to wiggle my bike out. But when I walked back into my room to finish getting dressed, I noticed the time and how early it still was. I shook my head to move the brat teen back into her box and told myself how stupid it would be for me to not ride my bicycle that day.
The streets were still wet from our most recent storm. I even had to navigate around a tree limb blocking one lane, but the sun was so bright. The light made all of the raindrops that clung to the foliage and puddled in the street shimmer and shine. It was like riding inside a crystal prism. My shins were a little damp from the water being flung off the front tire as I maneuvered through the wet streets. Michael is ordering fenders for my bike this week. I didn’t really miss having any until last year when I had to ride around a water main break. The finders should mitigate the water being flung onto my person. For Monday, I just embraced the damp. And my ride to work was the perfect way to start out the week. For all of the reason my inner brat teen was whining about above.
Every time I ride, I am soothed by the pace of my cycling. I’m not speedy and this allows me to be more present and mindful as I peddle my way down the road. There’s no clock and no reason for me to worry about the possibility of being late to a job that is flexible. So I walk into the building at ease. I started my work day that has the tendency to run right off the rails with calm and ease. I set a tone for the whole week and it sounded much like my meditation bell. It’s a tone that I desperately needed to hear because on Friday, I will drive four and half hours to attend internment services for Chris’s mom. Then I will turn right around and drive home so that we can get up early the next day to drive the Cabbage to camp. When the family reached out to tell me the date of her service, I was in Woods Hole and had plenty of quiet time to ask myself what was the right thing do here. It didn’t take me long to know that the right thing to do is to just show up. It’s what makes you family.
You just show up.
Our plan after dropping off the Cabbage is to continue driving north. We’ll stay a couple of nights in Dubuque. Michael has already made us reservations at a supper club which is a kitschy Iowa thing and we’ll go see the Field of Dreams. Further north is a Laura Ingalls Wilder place. We’ve booked two nights in a cabin near there and our plan is to just roam and see ridiculous roadside attractions like the worlds largest frying pan or a giant strawberry. I think the Future Birthplace of James T Kirk is on our path. I’ve already left some of Chris in Iowa, but I might need to leave a bit more of him for James T Kirk. I’m telling you all this because I’m taking a break from writing on the interwebs. This is actually a Thankful Friday post. I’m just posting it a day early.
I am grateful to have started my week with deliberate and mindful movements and I am grateful for some much needed time off.