Oranges photo credit: The Daily Green
Welcome to the second week of Midweek Musings! This week has been a mixed bag of dark and light. What have I been up to? Read on…
In keeping with the spirit of last week’s holiday, I’ve been ruminating on the subject of gratitude. I’m a lucky girl and have always had so much to be grateful for, but I’m sorry to admit that I haven’t always been able to see that. More and more, though, I’ve been awash in gratitude, which is the way I should be.
So this year, before Thanksgiving and on Thanksgiving and after, I am most grateful for being able to enjoy the simple yet powerful act of feeling gratitude.
Sometimes it’s the little things (like enjoying a morning run that makes you feel less like an enormous molecule of starchy carbohydrate) or big things (like my family and friends). But on this Monday morning (Cyber Monday, if you go in for that sort of thing), I want to write about something near and dear to my heart…hiking socks.
Aside from being one of the best means of taking care of one’s feet that I’ve ever found, they are spectacularly spectacular in nearly every way. I first came to understand the wonder that are hiking socks several years ago when my aunt and her husband gave me a pair for Christmas. I’m ashamed to admit that my first reaction was closer to Socks? Seriously? than anything approximating an appropriate response: Thanks for thinking of me. These look very warm.
But, oh!, what a gift it was. Not only that first pair (which is still my favorite), but for introducing me to a whole new genre of footwear. Hiking socks are the manifestation of my personal style: comfort and performance married in one place. Durable, cushy, built-in arch support, warm but breathable, and so, so cozy. Splendidly practical, but elevated by a certain amount of luxury. These are no ordinary socks.
As you might have figured our, I get irrationally excited about hiking socks. I wear them when I go for a run, when I’m out and about, when I’m working or relaxing at home (they make spectacular slippers), when I’m taking a dance break, when I sleep. In short, I heart hiking socks, and I wanted you to know it.
But enough about me. Do you have any article of clothing you can’t live without?
Happier is not too far away from its first birthday, and so, naturally, I’ve been reflecting on the first months of its life. Blogging, as I have discovered, is a learn-as-you-go kind of thing. I was been pretty sporadic about posting for most of the year, and there were a few pitifully sparse months in there. Lately, though, I’ve strived to be more regular about it. And I want to keep that momentum going. As such, I’m going to try something out, an experiment of sorts. My habit seems to be weekend posting, so I thought, why don’t I take a walk on the wild side and start trying to post regularly during the week, too? This is my very first attempt at an ongoing series…Midweek Musings, in which I will talk about complete nonsense. Care to give it a whirl with me?
Let me start by acknowledging that none of the items on my list are new…just new to me. This is typical where I am concerned…I generally need time to talk myself around to trying whatever people are buzzing about. Rarely is the buzz enough on its own. (I’m very stubborn this way.) Why do I like these things enough to spend more time than I imagined making them into a graphic? Well…
Once upon a time (last spring), in a land far far away (ahem, less than ten feet away from where I’m sitting right now), I set myself 30 goals that I hoped to achieve by the time I turned thirty. I called it 30 before Thirty (and beyond) because I knew that some things would necessarily extend beyond that milestone. It was a mix of ambitious goals and little things that I should be doing anyway. Since I turned thirty last week, I thought it was only fair to check in and see how I did.
The verdict? Out of 30 items, I completed 14 and made some progress on 7. The other 9? Let’s just say they—like the 7 works in progress—will live on. Wanna see how I did on the individual goals?
Happy Birthday to me!
I’d like to send out a big fat thanks to MamaPen for not giving up 30 years ago when I wasn’t sure I wanted to come out. And another big fat thanks to MamaPen and PapaPen for teaching me what it means to live with integrity and for being supportive even when they don’t get it.
I don’t ordinarily do much to to celebrate my birthday, but for some reason, it seemed very important to me to be running at the exact moment that marked 30 years since I was born. This year, in general, my impending birthday unearthed an unusually nostalgic part of me.
I am a runner.
Since I started college (when, to meet a PhysEd requirement, I took Jogging with the girl from my floor who was to become one of the best friends I will ever have), I have been a runner. In retrospect, there is something ironic in that, since I steadfastly resisted running as an activity for the almost-19 years leading up to it, willing to do it only if threatened by a failing grade in gym class.
There are some, maybe, who would tell me that I’m not a real runner…because I don’t “train,” I don’t have a fancy running watch, I have no idea what my average pace is (nor do I really care), I don’t run in races, and on and on. Don’t get me wrong…I don’t think there is anything wrong with any of that. More power to you if those things motivate you to go further, to go faster, to get better. It’s just not for me. I can’t run with a goal…I have to run solely for the sake of running, or I won’t do it.