It was just...right. The crunch of the snow under my boots. The rustle of the wind through the trees. The nip of cold air along my cheeks. I walked for about a mile, just as the sun was thinking about setting, and in the middle of my walk, I came to a river. I stood there for a few minutes savoring the gurgle of the water and watching the geese play. Then I kept walking. Not fast. Not to GO anywhere. Not for my health (Sidebar: I crossed paths with a guy a few times running and he looked MISERABLE. It's cold out playa. Way too cold for all that running business. But Yak Trax Jackson was working on his fitness, so I can't be mad. That is ded-i-ca-tion!). Wait, I take that back. It was for my health. My mental health.
|My cute little bridge. Yak Trax Jackson was hanging out in the trees across the way.|
I realized that if I'm in the nature, I'm not going to freeze to death. My body got to make itself warm instead of relying on external electric temperature regulators. So being cold and quiet and alone gave me some mental clarity. When I got back in the car, I didn't turn the heat on. I turned the radio off and just drove. The radio was too much aural stimulation. The heat would have kept me from fully experiencing the tingling in my skin as I came in from the cold. And as I drove back into the city, I was totally relaxed and my mind was quiet. I was almost completely silent (a few fuck words may have eked out. Jackwagons, I tell ya!).
Eventually I turned the heat on to its lowest setting, turned the radio on to a quiet volume and just gently let my normal car ride come back. But I don't think I want that to be my norm. Perhaps I just need to be cold to get to my quiet.