When the going gets tough, the fit go hiking. It doesn’t matter that hiking was not the plan. It doesn’t matter that you are wearing a dress. When you are fit, you rise to the occasion, change pace as needed and know when it’s time to call on the trees for support.
You know that it’s always the right time to crawl under the covers, to read the words of the great thinkers, to encourage your intellectual curiosity.
When you are fit, you don’t strive to “live your best life.” Instead you are willing to live your whole life. You live life as it is, as it comes. You don’t fear mundane or messy. You don’t need grand adventures to prove you are alive or acclaimed achievements to prove you have worth. You know that if you remain open and true, all the fullness and possibility for your human experience will come to you. At the end, as you descend to dust, as you shoot away on a star, you will marvel and you will gasp, “Oh my! That was it!”
When you come across a set of rings on the forest path, you play.
When your Boo turns the hose on you out of the blue, you’re all like, “Bring it, baby!”
Ain’t no wall too tall to keep you from reaching the roses.
No matter the time, you know there is always time to stop and smell the lilacs.
You can carry the azalea bush (that was gifted to you by a friend) from your car to the place in the yard where it will be planted. Or you can delegate the task to your husband. Your choice.
You can rescue Queen Cedar from Evil Ivy who attempts to strangle her to death.
You can perform the single arm Le Creuset soup pour with ease.
When you are fit, you are fit to supervise your husband as he digs a hole for planting your magnolia tree in the backyard.
When you are fit, you see the blessings of getting a flat tire while driving to yoga class at 8am on a Saturday: Morning sun on your skin, a translucent white moon against the bright blue, the iridescent bark of a eucalyptus tree, lavender bushes bubbling with bumble bees and the realization that the car can sit for a day, even two. There's nowhere but here.
Google maps tells you to drive to your appointment. "You'll be 12 minutes late if you walk." Hogwash! It's sunny in Seattle for the first time ever. You walk and arrive 2 minutes early. Of course you do cause you're fit.
Your car gets hit in the middle of the night.
When you take it to the body shop for its estimate, the receptionist says, "When you drop off your car for its work, we’ll call the rental car company to come pick you up."
"I can walk to the rental car place," you say.
"Are you sure? It's a far distance."
"I've got it," you say.
When the rental car company calls to confirm your reservation the guy on the phone says, "...so we'll come pick you up once you drop your car off at the body shop."
"I'm going to walk," you say.
"Are you sure? It's like a mile and a half."
"I got it."
When you drop the car off at the body shop for its work, the receptionist asks again, "Are you sure you want to walk?"
So you walk. And the cherry blossoms bloomed their fullest. The air smelled its sweetest.
When you arrive at the rental company, the man at the desk asks, "How was your workout?"
"It was a mile and a half walk," you say.
"Wow! That's a lot."
When you are fit, you never pass up an opportunity to walk amongst the blooms.
You know that there is no job more important than accepting the tide's invitation for a walk. It lowers itself, rolling out its rocky banks. You graciously, eagerly surrender to the pull. When you are fit, you move when nature calls.
It only takes one trip to carry all the groceries and all the cookbooks from the car to your mom’s kitchen to prepare Sunday dinner (salmon cakes and salad) as well as all the food for the week (steak and frittata and veggies and muffins).
When you are fit, all the world’s your playground.
You pull the ivy out.
It rolls into a ball, becomes a monster.
Fear not! You own this.
Marine morning summer, gray disappointment.
Tonight the sky clears, air hotter than before.
Sun setting to your right. Big moon rising to your left.
You can stand on tiptoes to witness the final blush over the hedge.
When you are fit, you know what’s true:
There is always a poem waiting to be found.