Running

I wonder how much expressing feelings is good. Wearing your heart on your sleeve makes you more transparent -what you see is what you get- but at the same time it makes you more vulnerable. I've been through this kind of phase in the last few days. Probably the time to evaluate the year, maybe the end of the routine that's mostly driven me crazy, perhaps the anticipation of a new stage in this permanent transition that life has become, perhaps it's just the existential loneliness of a long-distance runner... I'm not sure why, but I've been particularly introspective and needing a hug more often than usual.

The breathing becomes automatic and painful as the air struggles to reach and fill the lungs. The legs keep moving out of inertia towards some distant finish line. The view on both sides of the road has become a blurred mixture of forest green and pavement grey. At some point, he feels he'll be able to walk back along this road and enjoy the hornero's nests, the brooding buds in the bushes that claim the road back, the playful wind in the canopy, the fresh scent of mowed grass and the cool breeze emerging from the wooded areas. He's not sure if he's ahead or far behind. He only sees the road, fights the physical pain of the effort, and focuses on the moving green under every stride.

Most people show me a smile when I see them. That's a good sign, right? That IS reason enough to drive the year to an honorable close. It's also been a time to be grateful to those I love that care for me, and to God for giving me the gift of their company and support. I'm not sure how much is enough. I can't possibly figure that out because on one hand I'm ignorant of the type of love that's perennial, selfless, unconditional, and, on the other, I'm blessed with lots of positive energy and respect. Sometimes 'enough' can be such a vague word...