PDY

It was bound to happen… Mr. Happy-walk-hallway-across the country to the park is human, last time he checked and so he thinks. And human is up and down, yin and yang, happy and sad, sadness or euphoria, dark and light. These past few days have been a crazy combination of all the above and, as much as I’d like to brush some of the bluer parts aside, they’re part of the deal, inevitable at some point along the path we call life.

I wasn’t waiting for, expecting or anticipating a post-walk let-down but am not at all surprised it happened last week.  Just as I had a mid-walk slump, and recovered, this too shall pass, but I’ve learned to just allow it to come and go instead of trying to cover up or hide, for that often comes back to bite you in the arse, usually stronger and uglier than it was originally.

Call it sadness, call it depression, call it whatever you like, but it’s the opposite of happy and content. And it is inevitable. When I learned to accept that, I also learned to deal with it. I don’t brush it aside anymore, I definitely don’t deny it, and just like I lived very moment to the park, I’ve got to live these moments as well. They’re not altogether pleasant sometimes, but nothing lasts forever, and just as the happy eventually fades, so will the unhappy. It’s a cycle, up and down, and I trust the fact that it’s part of a continuum that evolves, gets better, might get worse before it does, but regardless, is not forever.

From an outsider’s point of view, you’d think I’d be on the absolute top of the world. I’ve achieved something I’m pretty proud of, I have three awesome kids and a lot of friends, I’m disease free, my legs work, I can walk, and I have a handful of talents, and the good list goes on. Perfect right? Yes, mostly. But then the mind gets racing, and the worries rear their ugly heads and one worry leads to another. A month ago, all I really had to do is wake up and walk all day – easy. I had a goal, an objective, a destination, and was just loving the journey to get me there. But that part is over, and with it came the letdown of last week.

Just as I think you need to feel the downs, so must you try to figure out where they are coming from. Everything is never always bad, but it’s very easy to just throw your arms up and say everything sucks, when in fact it doesn’t, but it takes a little work to get past that. So first I try to remember how very fortunate I am and have been. I’ve achieved something I’m pretty proud of, I have three awesome kids and a lot of friends, my legs work, I can walk and I have a handful of talents, and yes, I rewrote that on purpose, just as I constantly remind myself of all the positive things I’ve got going in my direction, and for which I am very grateful. Call it step one, and often times it’s the only step required.

If step one doesn’t clear the cobwebs, then it’s time to try to figure out what’s in the way and keeping happy and content at bay, but only after stopping, once again, to appreciate and be grateful for what is already there, alive and well. It’s important at this point to keep things as separate as possible, especially when there are a lot of them. A room full of unpacked boxes in a new apartment has nothing to do with figuring out where I’m going to draw an income, for example. Both cause stress and take away from happiness, but they are totally independent of one anther. Each one of these stressors, along with a handful of others, should and will be dealt with individually, some requiring more energy than others. The problem comes when you bunch them all together into what feels like an insurmountable mountain. The trick is to break them down into little hills, each one attainable and with a solution of its own. Works for me, and my new room is almost devoid of boxes – not so my brain, but that too will eventually get organized and happy as I conquer my little hills.

Returning to an urban environment has not been easy. My cool week in NY was great fun, urban as could be, but I was still on some sort of vacation – new places, new people, old places and friends. And I was looking forward to the drive home with Alex, still on vacation. Then our drive ended, and here I am, Austin, TX, in an environment that’s going to take me a while to get used to, if that’s what I decide to do. The first thing I must do is find a mechanism to deal with the actions of some of the people in this town. Most people here are very nice, but since arriving, I’ve seen some that should really just go back from where they came or learn to behave in a civil way, at the very least. I’ve nearly gotten hit by two cars, much closer than at any time on my way to the park. The first was a thirty something in a SUV driving at least 60 mph in a 30-mile residential area who cut the curve too tight and came within a couple of feet of me. The other was another thirty something who evidently feels he’s above having to stop at a four-way intersection clearly marked with four stop signs. He hardly even slowed down and his bumper was within inches of my leg. I hope both these idiots learn civility and respect for others before they hurt someone with their self-righteous and entitled sense of being, not only with their cars, but words and actions as well. Yesterday at the grocery store I offered my spot in line to a young mother with her daughter in tow. I moved my cart so she could get past me, and was shocked when after getting by, did not even look at me, let alone say thank you, not a word. And then there was the guy at the supposed quiet bookstore café, on his phone, talking at the top of his lungs, completely unfazed by looks from every patron in the place - didn’t care.  

So, as I re-adapt to this place, adjustments are going to have to be made. I can’t change these people – they are who they are, sadly. Their sense of entitlement and rudeness are their own. What I can control is how I react to them and their actions. I could allow myself to get mad, which I have, only to my own detriment by the way; for one, they didn’t even know I was mad, and two, probably couldn’t care less.  Or I can rise above it, only after protecting myself from the damage they could cause. Saying something nasty or throwing a rock at their new Tesla would feel great, really would, but doing either would just take me to their low level of courtesy and poor manners, and the latter would probably create a hefty bill at the body shop.

Instead, I’ll keep smiling when I look at someone, regardless of who they are. I will always say please and remember to say thank you. And though it pissed me off yesterday, I will continue to allow people to occasionally get in front of me in line, if they ask or I offer. I will try to graciously allow drivers to pull in front of me, and if the super-entitled ones want to pull in front of the dozens of cars waiting to get on the freeway, I mustn’t allow it to make me mad. And when my fuse is short, I may withdraw for a while, so as not to say or do something I may regret. I will try to be nice, as nice as I’d like others to be with me (sounds like fodder for a rule, a golden one).

And I will walk as often and as far as I can. I like walking. I had to take a few days off while nursing a cold that caught up with me last week. Again, not surprised, for physical and mental health are so completely and inextricably linked that when the attitude fails, the body typically follows, at some point. I let the unhappiness creep in and the germ committee that was lurking went all out, and beat me for a few days, but has since been defeated and mostly gone. I have had a few really nice walks however, one in particular with Beth, yet another EverWalk-er. I started off walking with a stranger and, 10 miles later, said farewell to a friend.

I’ve got a lot to do going forward, fortunately. Looking forward to something happy is always a good thing and a great help in getting over the hills. It can be a little thing, like an evening walk, a cup of coffee or a bite to eat. Or it can be huge, like the rest of your life. I’ve said before that trying to totally control what happens next is futile, but you can position yourself in what you think is a good spot and allow life to unfold… it’s called hope.