Tag Archive | morning walk

PLAY – the Best Medicine

A couple weeks ago Floey and I went for a long morning walk, and it really felt like summer for the first time this year. The sun had warmed the air to the mid 70s, a few white clouds floated in the bright blue sky, the birds were singing, and cornfields were showing off neat rows of 2-inch baby plants. Floey trotted beside me on her 16-foot extendable leash, watching carefully for any movement along the side of the road that could indicate a chipmunk, rabbit, or squirrel was hiding from us.

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As we walked along the country road that goes by our old farmhouse, a song that was popular when I was in high school popped into my mind – “Those Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer.” In my mind, Nat King Cole was singing it, and I was in the driveway of the farm, washing my first car, a 1963 Corvair. I remember I did that on perfect Sunday afternoons in 1966. That song made me smile and feel good 51 years ago, and it made me smile and feel good now as I was walking Floey.

Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Those days of soda and pretzels and beer
Roll out those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer
Dust off the sun and moon and sing a song of cheer.

When Floey and I got back home, I said, “Alexa, play Lazy, Hazy, Crazy Days of Summer by Nat King Cole.” My Amazon Echo gadget accommodated my whim, and I listened to the song just as I had remembered it.

Danny and Marian in first go-kart

We also built go-karts.

Summer is my favorite time of the year for lots of reasons. Most of my happy childhood memories took place in the summer – planting tobacco, baling hay, playing cowboys and Indians in the barn, walking down to the woods to explore, playing croquet on the front lawn. There was always lots of work to do, but there was always enough time to play, as well. Now that I’ve grown up, I find that it’s much harder to find time to play, although I’m usually most successful in finding time for play in the summer.

For the month of May, Joan Chittister wrote in the “Monastic Way” devotional pamphlet all about the importance of finding time to play. She started by quoting Proverbs 8:30, “I, Wisdom, was God’s delight day by day, playing with God every moment…”

fullsizeoutput_208aI’ve never used words quite like that to talk about “playing.” But as usual, Chittister gave me something to think about every day. One day she quoted Albert Einstein, “Play is the highest form of research.” She went on to explain, “Play frees our minds to think things we have never had the opportunity to think before. It enables us to come to know ourselves in other ways. It prompts us to think differently – about old things and new.”

Another day she said, “Adults get so work oriented, they forget to keep on growing. As a result we risk never becoming the rest of ourselves. To know who we are and what we can be requires a great deal of aimless activity…”

The next day she added, “To be really happy, we have to discover how to play as well as how to work.”

One of my favorite reflections of the month was on May 23. “Play … gives the mind room to think about more than the present. It provides the space we need to remember what life was like before arthritis of the soul set in.”

“Arthritis of the soul” is an image I won’t forget. I have a little arthritis in my knees, hips, and wrists. I don’t like it, and I do whatever I can to keep it from getting worse. I certainly don’t want to develop “arthritis of the soul,” and if taking time to play can prevent it, finding time to play will become a new priority for me.

So, how do I play as a “mature adult?” I’m not sure that rounding up my cousins to play cowboys and Indians in the barn will be quite as much fun as it was 60 years ago. Chittister had a suggestion. She said, “Get up tomorrow and go do something you’ve never done before. Then, decide if you’d like to do that again. If not, try something else the next day. Keep trying until you discover a whole new part of you. You’ll like yourself a whole lot better if you do.”

I think I have a few ideas of my own about how to play, too. Going for walks with Floey is fun and provides aimless time to think. Going on a treasure hunt with Mim usually ends up at a resale shop where all kinds of discoveries can be made – especially in the book department. Cuddling up with a good book can provide hours of escape from reality. Sometimes playing through a songbook of golden oldies on the piano can be unbelievably refreshing.

Now that the “lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer” are here, I’m ready to play. I need to prevent “arthritis of the soul.” And, as Joan Chittister says, “There’s no substitute for knowing how to do nothing [i.e., play] without feeling guilty about it.” And now you know how.

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Floey and I also play with gardening on our deck.

Hurry Up!

Abbey Profile 2

Yesterday morning, after breakfast, Abbey and I went outside for our usual morning walk. The sun was shining in a clear blue sky, but the temperature was 8 below zero. I put on my winter boots, bundled up with my down-filled jacket and pulled the hood over my head. Abbey waited patiently while I slipped on her harness and clipped on the leash. We stepped out the door to begin what I saw as a quick 5-minute walk down our driveway and around the circular drive among the condos, giving Abbey a chance to “do her business.” Abbey saw it differently – another 15-minute adventure outside.

“Come on, Abbey. It’s cold outside. Let’s get this walk over with.” Abbey didn’t hear me. She walked about 10 steps, nose to the ground, and stopped to sniff one particular spot in the snow extra carefully. I continued down the driveway until I got to the end of the 25-foot extend-a-leash. I turned around. Abbey was still sniffing that spot. “Come on, Abbey,” I called. She still ignored me. I gave a slight tug on the leash. She looked up, and then pranced in my direction. She came about 20 feet, and then stopped to “do her business.”

2014 Abbey in Snow 3“Good girl, Abbey. Let’s keep going. Let’s walk around the whole circle. Then we can go back inside where it’s warm.” Abbey looked at me like I was crazy, took a few steps, and buried her nose in the snow.   Then she looked up at me and called out, “Just a minute, Mom. Someone’s been here. I haven’t figured out who it was yet.”  So I waited while she sniffed some more. Finally she took a couple steps, and stopped to eat some snow. “This is good, Mom. You should try it.”

“No, thanks, Abbey. Come on. Aren’t you cold?”

“Just a minute, Mom. This snow tastes so good.” I stopped when I reached the end of the 25-foot leash again. I looked back to see what Abbey was doing now. She was standing up tall, listening in the direction of Kitty and Mickey’s condo. Sometimes they come outside when she walks by and they always bring a handful of MilkBones.

2014 Abbey in snow 2“Oh, Abbey. They’re not coming out today. It’s too cold.” Reluctantly Abbey walked my direction. Then she picked up another scent to follow. After about 15 minutes of this pattern Abbey and I returned to our condo. I was freezing. She was invigorated. “Abbey, I think it’s time we need to talk about our walks.”

“I agree, Mom. You seem really frustrated. What’s wrong?”

“Yes, I am frustrated, Abbey. It’s cold outside, and you don’t seem to have a clue what the word ‘hurry’ means.”

“Oh, Mom, you’re always in such a hurry. You’re so busy you don’t take time to do anything fun – or to take time to enjoy anything you’re doing. I thought joy was supposed to be your ‘perfect word’ for this year. You’re in too much of a hurry to find joy.”

Abbey’s rather harsh observation startled me. Am I really that busy? Every morning this year, I start my devotional time by reading a reflection by Sarah Young from her book, Jesus Calling. In this reflection, Jesus says, “Sit quietly in my presence while I bless you. Make your mind like a still pool of water, ready to receive whatever thoughts I drop into it.” A few sentences later, Jesus says, “Keep looking to Me and communicating with Me as we walk through this day together. Take time to rest by the wayside, for I am not in a hurry. A leisurely pace accomplishes more than hurried striving.” I have read these words 62 times so far this year. Apparently, I’m not heeding what Jesus says about not hurrying. I guess Abbey’s right.

An Unhurried LifeI’m going to try something new for Lent this year. I’m going to try to fast from hurry. It’s not an original idea. A few days ago I read about someone else who’s planning to do this. Linda Swanson has a blog called “Journey in Process.”  In her blog, she mentioned a book she’s reading, An Unhurried Life by Alan Fadling.

I looked up the book on Amazon.com and was tempted to download a Kindle version to quickly skim the book for key ideas to help me before Lent starts tomorrow.  Then I realized, hurrying to get ready for Lent so that I can give up hurrying for Lent, doesn’t make too much sense. I think I’ll still buy the book, but I’ll order it as a paperback that Mim can read, too. (She’s technology resistant.) Then, maybe during Lent I can spend time studying the book at a more leisurely pace, and Mim and I can talk about it as we try to break the habit of hurrying.