I went for a run this morning. To anyone reading this, that probably doesn’t sound like much of a surprise; yet it was. I was immersed in the complete sensory experience of the air, the budding trees, and the recruitment of my muscles in finding a rhythm for my stride. This is nothing new, yet it is utterly brand new. The route may be familiar, but there is always something clearly distinct and fresh to be noticed. How the particular day, time, and lighting mingle with my energy, mood, and current mind state correlate to create new experiences, time and again.
I speak of this often in my yoga classes; how each and every time we step on the mat or sit in meditation, it is a brand new experience to behold. A new moment in which to take notice. I can’t pinpoint exactly what was so different about this morning’s run, other than it was simply a time to move swiftly in the early hours of the morning. To run for the sake of running, with no goal or desired outcome, to breathe fresh air, and to notice my surroundings. I noticed the light greens and browns, the colors representative of a Maine spring, and was struck by how these hues are deepening with each day and every rainfall. A swell of gratitude overcame me. For my health, for the spring season, and for palpable new energy coming forth in all directions.
As humans, we are intrinsically connected to the rhythms found within nature, and with our very eyes, we bear witness to the continual change this time of year. As I’ve highlighted in previous posts, this is a time for growth and renewal; a perfect time for setting goals and clarifying intentions. And as I’ve also learned to embrace, slowing down enough, even for a moment, to recognize when those ideals have shifted or no longer have the same hold. The result is the ability to prioritize and unload what has become too heavy to carry.
I’m always amazed by what a run can teach me.