Everything’s so confusing
just before your mind’s made up.
– the prophet brent babb
I’m running on the gumbo loop, just minding my own business (a tiny jogging entrepreneurship), when I see it up ahead: autumn.
We’re in early January, so it seems a bit late for fall to arrive. But we don’t adhere to daylight saving time in Arizona, so I suppose this is just another casualty.
The leaves are beautiful. And very, very dead.
But I’m reminded of the wisdom of Chance the Gardener:
“In the garden, growth has it seasons. First comes spring and summer, but then we have fall and winter. And then we get spring and summer again.”
Running is like that. Build up, crash, rest, peak, plummet, projectile vomit, sashay, swear it off forever, untangle cramp, celebrate the finish line, start all over again. Live, die, repeat as necessary.
I guess it’s for the season reasons trees bloom and leaves change and birds come and go each year to see it all happen. They don’t much think about it; it’s just the cycle of life. Although I keep crashing on my cycle and find running to be less traumatic for my ribs.
I’m running 3 miles a day this week, pretending to know I remember how. The cat is staging a triumphant comeback, apparently having overheard Mo’s phone conversation with the vet about taking her in. I look ahead on the calendar, fighting the urge to pencil in May and September while reminding myself that this week is all there is.
I run through the leaves and the memories. It’s all good. We have fall and winter. And then we get spring and summer again. And then the seasons of our lives will continue long after we’re gone, blooming gloriously each year through the memories we have left with others.
And yet. Everything IS so confusing just before your mind’s made up. I hope my mind gets made up soon.
The prophet Babb was right. You can’t have it both ways …