I went out for a run this morning. By 7:ooam the sun was already high on the horizon and was given chase by a bank of clouds which, for most of my run, kept the sun hidden. The moon, still fullish, was translucent and high in the western sky. It beckoned me on my out run.
I had trouble staying in my body and out of my head this morning. The times when the thoughts float easily away, and I sift into the vastness, aware of being the wind, the birdsong, the rays of sunlight; those runs are sublime. And then there are runs like today’s, when I just can’t get out of my own way. I fall into thinking about something, generally planning my day or my week, and being so immersed in the future I fail to notice the now. The sensations of the moment are lost to me: the soles of my feet landing softly on worn asphalt, the gentle trills of chickadees, the trickle of sweat that collects slowly in the edge of my hairline and, having gathered sufficient importance, runs along the edge of my face. The breeze once causing my eyes to tear slightly as I ran into it now ruffling the fine hairs on my forearms, my breath matching my stride matching the pulse of the universe.
Eventually I came to my senses, abandoned the effort, slowed to a walk and enjoyed the blossoms along the roadside.