august 2/RUN

2 trails
71 degrees / dew point: 64
8:30 am

Warm this morning. And humid. Tonight during open swim it’s supposed to be 95. I listened to a playlist as I ran up above, nothing down below. The thing I remember most is the river. As I ran on the lower trail, I could feel the water shining off to my right. A constant presence of both the water and the idea of water beside me. Anything else? Greeted Mr. Morning!, passed some walkers and bikers.

Things that were missing

  1. the sound of trickling water from the sewers
  2. roller skiers
  3. fat tires
  4. Dave, the Daily Walker
  5. black capped chickadees
  6. crows
  7. woodpeckers
  8. rowers
  9. overheard conversations
  10. squirrels

Discovered this wonderful piece in the latest issue of Visible Binary: Ignition Chronicles / CAConrad

We live our lives with our list of daily routines, from washing our bodies to obeying traffic signals on our way to work. There is so much to remember to get through the day. When tragedy disrupts our routines, suddenly, all of our attention is centered on that loss. It is in the focus of loss where many believe they can write better: Focus, the keyword.

It is crucial to learn that the focus the depression offers helps us write, not the depression itself. After we finally understand this, we see how we can orchestrate any focus we want, to write whenever and however we want! (Soma)tic poetry rituals have given me eyes to see the creative viability in everything around us for the poems!

I’m thinking about this idea of focus in terms of attention and Simone Weil’s idea of pure attention as not will but surrender, and how the disruption of grief forces a surrender and a loss of control. What rituals/practices can we create to enable that surrender without grief or tragedy?