I have many fine qualities, but consistency with just about anything is not one. I start with great intentions, then fizzle. Writing is no different. I love the therapeutic value of putting cyber pen to cyber paper, and occasionally surprise myself with a new insight or witticism. However, I lack the discipline to maintain and hone. This blog being Exhibit A. I think I'm averaging a post and a quarter per year?
May is Mental Health Awareness Month. As I am aware of my mental health, and having come across this through the #wehiketoheal hashtag via one of my favourite Instagram pages, Unlikely Hikers, I vowed I would write a little bit every day. I haven't. So, here's a 3-for-1, since the first ones are somewhat related.
I feel most beautiful when...
I feel sexiest after...
I know I'm happy when...
The middle one I'll leave for my personal writing, but beautiful, sexy, happy... those are mostly the same emotion. In the spirit of just write the damn thing and don't obsess because that's just an excuse for not getting the job done, here's my first draft, barely-edited response.
I feel the most alive when I'm totally engaged and mindful of myself and my surroundings, when I feel a sense of flow. a sense of purpose, and sometimes a sense of altruism. I say sometimes because most often I find myself truly happy when I'm doing a solo pursuit--mostly hiking or kayaking. I'm completely reliant on myself, everything is up to me. There's no asking someone else what they want to do, trying hard to keep up with another's pace, stopping when I want.
May is Mental Health Awareness Month. As I am aware of my mental health, and having come across this through the #wehiketoheal hashtag via one of my favourite Instagram pages, Unlikely Hikers, I vowed I would write a little bit every day. I haven't. So, here's a 3-for-1, since the first ones are somewhat related.
I feel most beautiful when...
I feel sexiest after...
I know I'm happy when...
The middle one I'll leave for my personal writing, but beautiful, sexy, happy... those are mostly the same emotion. In the spirit of just write the damn thing and don't obsess because that's just an excuse for not getting the job done, here's my first draft, barely-edited response.
I feel the most alive when I'm totally engaged and mindful of myself and my surroundings, when I feel a sense of flow. a sense of purpose, and sometimes a sense of altruism. I say sometimes because most often I find myself truly happy when I'm doing a solo pursuit--mostly hiking or kayaking. I'm completely reliant on myself, everything is up to me. There's no asking someone else what they want to do, trying hard to keep up with another's pace, stopping when I want.
Having said that, I don't shy away from company now that I've relegated my depression to a tiny corner. Reflecting on the happiest moments in the past year all comes back to the company I kept, but also mixed with the physical activity that brought me to those heights (pun intended). Mt. St. Helens, Lake Louise, Olympic Peninsula, Tough Mudder, Utah.... all shared with those I love.
Nature is the common denominator. Although I've felt great joy in my classroom and building my nest in the first home I've owned, to be truly happy I need to be outside. I am getting too old to sleep on the ground in a tent without waking up channeling Snap Crackle and Pop, a moment last year of true bliss was setting up camp lakeside, after a wonderful visit with friends, on a hot summer's night, and jumping in the glassy water at sunset. Snapped this picture afterwards, hoping it captured what I was feeling inside. It kind of did, but the miracle is that I willingly take pictures of myself now. No more erasing myself from my own story. But that's an entry for #17.
“A joyful life is an individual creation that cannot be copied from a recipe.”
― Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi
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