Walking in the evenings

I went for a walk this evening, because I felt like I had to. I had to drive 20 minutes to get to a place with dusty trails, minimal people, and rich, outdoorsy air. But, it was worth it, because that's exactly how I like it.

Oh, I had forgotten how much I like evening walks - you know, the kind where the air is cool, the sun has started to set just enough where it's still light out, and everything looks kind of hazy. I crave the kind of walks that allow the chance to walk slowly, breathe deeply, and linger if the soul asks for it.

 I think the dog likes the lack of other humans as much as I do - she can have the leash and run and smell questionable things as much as she wants to. 

The best walks are the ones where I feel relaxed, and mostly content, and can stop and snap photos of the places that catch my eye - the places with interesting contrast, and color. They help me remember.

When my husband is gone for awhile, I am not the best caretaker of myself. I let the dishes pile up in the kitchen, I sometimes don't clean up crumbs...because I can do it the next day. Then, I get frustrated with myself because I actually really do likes things clean and sometimes I let it go too far.

I also never sleep as well when he's gone for awhile. Mostly, because I avoid the physical act of actually going to bed. It's like I'm afraid to lie awake, or something. I'm afraid of the stillness, the quietness, the time that makes me so vulnerable to over-thinking. So, I waste time, instead. I avoid going to bed, and then I end up over-tired.

 It's silly...to recognize where I am weak, and where I want to improve, but to still let myself fall into the same traps. I try to keep getting better.

The best thing I can do for myself, even if it means that my work doesn't get done as soon as I originally planned, is to accept that I need to walk when I feel like walking. 

It's healing. It helps me do better work. It's healthy. It's freeing. It's moving forward, and accomplishing something, even if that something seems small. 

And then, later, when I write...I am able to better process my emotions - even if they aren't revealed in my actual words.