Run - Stop - Smell the Flowers

Every morning this week I’ve arisen at 5 AM, tried not to wake my neighbors with all the floor creaking that is inevitable in our old building, snuck outside in to the pre-dawn, and run to the rose garden and back. It’s maybe 1.5 miles total. My favorite part of the run is when I stop running and stroll through the Japanese Peace Garden.

The crabapple trees, full of blossoms, glow in the dark and I could follow the rocky paths, even with my eyes closed, by their scent alone. I like to sit on the little wooden bridge over the rock “stream” and say a prayer. I’m not sure who I’m praying to but I feel like these words and feelings I offer up have a destination and, honestly, who could sit in the mist with the sun rising over blooming trees and not feel as though they are held gently by the universe.

Then I run back. Sometimes I allow the over-burdened lilac branches reaching over the fence around the Victorian cemetery to smack me full in the face. This is how my day begins.

When I shared my routine with an acquaintance, it was not the scenery or the spiritual connection that drew her attention. Throughout my quest for health she has remained focused on my weight loss. She wants it, but she doesn’t. She repeatedly asks me how I’m doing it, but she’s not interested in the idea of sacrificing a sugar addiction or changing sleeping schedules. She is not motivated by a spiritual way to begin the day. She wants to fit into a size 8.

I know from our many conversations that she believes decreasing her size will increase her happiness. This will not happen. She might be happier for six months, tops, but then she will return to her normal state of being. Especially as I suspect that her happiness is dependent on external factors, i.e. others noticing her. Her self-image is so dependent on others’ opinions that once when someone criticized her outfit she went straight home and changed – in the middle of the morning.

I understand this. I stumbled when the comments on my new appearance ceased. Without realizing it I had become as dependent on them as I had on sugar. Yet, it was also a relief to not feel “looked at.” Rather, people became used to my external appearance and began to really see me, and that has been pleasant.

I’ve realized that I have to work on my core – and I don’t mean my core muscles, although they do need attention – in order to hold up all the layers that lie over it. Many people have helped me, either directly or by asking after my welfare or donating money to research for better treatment of my illness, and to you I am extremely grateful. I am most grateful to myself for recognizing that I needed to commit to the changes for my sake alone and, mostly, for being gentle with myself.

Without the gentleness, I wouldn’t stop in the Peace Garden; I would run straight through it and miss the best part of all.