I’ll admit I struggled a bit to come up with a title for today’s post because what I planned to write about seemed a bit, well, b-o-r-i-n-g and I have a certain level of un-boring to maintain around here. So I did what most sleep-deprived folks do, I googled the correct spelling and instead of finding a mere answer, I found a trove of information I didn’t know I was missing.
The process went a bit like this: Read more…
A man known as Sweetness once said, “We are stronger together than when we are alone.” It is easy to think that Walter Payton was simply talking about life as a Chicago Bears football player; it is easier to think about Sweetness rallying his team to work together. But it is better to think of Walter being one of us regular folk whose only experiences with a pigskin is to toss it around in the summer sun. Because “Sweetness” Walter Payton was right on the money on this one…
WE ARE STRONGER TOGETHER THAN WHEN WE ARE ALONE.
I’ve written before about being mistaken as my kids’ grandmother instead of mother. When it’s a kid that does it, I don’t get mad. After all, I seem to recall as a high school sophomore thinking the college-aged kids must be really mature and have their life all planned out as I served them post-parting-hangover food. Obviously, one’s own age and experiences plays a role in such perceptions.
An older gentleman who had a “grandpa” like status in my childhood had two sayings he was fond of: “Hair and brains don’t mix” and “Age ain’t nothin’ but mind over matter; if you don’t mind, it don’t matter.” Yes, he was bald as a cue-ball and a very fun-loving young-at-heart kind of soul. He may have missed a few lessons on grammar and proper language, but he was spot-on about the role of context and perspective.
Since January, I’ve been trying to go for a 30 minute walk every day. Somedays it doesn’t happen, much to my dog’s dismay, but most days it does. I started walking in the darkness of the northwest’s winter, which meant I gloved up, put on a hat, and zipped up my raincoat over several layers. (The dog looked similarly attired.) I’d set a timer on my phone and we’d head out, dreaming of days of more heat and sun and fewer layers.
I set the timer as a way of making sure I was walking for at least 30 minutes and to challenge myself to walk a bit farther each day, a bit faster.
In the days between early January and now I’ve learned just how fast we can walk and just how far we can get. We always get farther on the weekends when traffic and stop lights aren’t as much of an impediment. But we have more people watching available to un during the week. It seems like a good balance.
Today, as we left the house, I didn’t set my alarm.
It’s a big world we’re living in, and we are but wee little individuals. Is it possible for wee little individuals to make big differences? The ice is melting, the water is rising, the children are starving, the animals are becoming extinct. It all seems so overwhelming that this wee little individual can get overwhelmed.
Sometimes the individual needs to know that it is possible to fix things, to make things better.
I think the place to start is your ears and your voice.