Early Morning Miles: Lessons in Reflection
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| Photo by Emma Simpson on Unsplash |
As I ventured out the other morning for my workout, the sun was beginning to rise, and the sky was slowly changing from a light blue to a darker blue hue. The air was less humid, and I took a deep breath and hummed along to Jason Mraz. I’m not sure if it was the song that triggered my sense of reflection that morning or if it had been percolating waiting for the right moment to attack.
I acknowledged how thankful I was for the quiet and stillness of the country morning. In those 45 minutes, I can let go. It’s me and my thoughts and the occasional exchange of “hello” with the local wildlife.
It’s also a chance for me to exercise my mind in addition to my body and a welcome opportunity for me to do an emotional well-being check. I find that most mornings performing this full self-check is an excellent way to welcome the day.
However, more often than not, it is also the best therapy around; especially when I’m wrestling with my internal conflicts.
I had been feeling a bit ornery and out of place. So, I found myself thinking about the times I’ve let lousy days overshadow my kindness capacity and displace my generally happy disposition.
Inevitably, life spills out, spills over, and sometimes it can feel rotten despite best efforts to make it feel otherwise.
Nevertheless, my bouts of bitch hiccups tend to amp up when this happens and have certainly warranted “the look” from my husband at times. Thankfully, I recognize said look, regroup, and own my shit — usually after a good, long workout.
The last part about owning your pile of poo, however, isn’t necessarily pleasant. It can stink to high heaven; especially on a hot, summer day.
Sometimes the piles are heaping, and sometimes they aren’t. We may even step in them if we aren’t paying attention.
For anyone who has ever stepped in that geographically located and carefully placed pile of poop, you know what a bitch it can be to get it off your shoe.
At the end of the day, though, they are our piles, and we make a conscious choice whether or not to clean them up.
However, that point of turning inward and acknowledging that I’ve had a moment — or series of them — isn’t always easy. Self-reflection isn’t all glitz and glamour. It takes courage to stare down our demons and flaws and do some cleanup — no matter the size of the pile.
Sometimes the person we see looking back isn’t whom we expected.
Maybe we are a little older, with graying roots, and a few more wrinkles near the eyes.
Sometimes we are fraught with puffy eyes, smeared makeup, and Medusa-like hair.
Sometimes we see someone who is broken or scarred or scared.
Other times we see someone who is confident and brave and ready to tackle the world.
Sometimes we see ugly inside and out when others see beautiful inside and out.
Perhaps, we recognize that what we thought we needed to fix, is perfectly imperfect.
YOU are unique, after all.
In this sense, self-reflection is a gift allowing us to take inventory of our critical elements.
I always say that if the pavement could talk and the hills could sing, what a story they could tell you about me — if it not for doctor-patient confidentiality. Many a mile I have shed not only sweat but also tears. I’ve had countless conversations in my mind as I try to navigate life’s hiccups, and I have stumbled.
However, I keep coming back for my early morning sessions because there’s always a lesson, another dot to connect, and a pathway for self-reflection and growth.
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