the walking in the woods cure

Is it true that as you get older transitions become harder? Man, getting back into my routine after two weeks away from it is proving difficult.

Maybe it's because I've set up my life in this multi-component, pastiche that the "running as fast as I can to stay only one step behind" truism persists, though on the heels of a 12-hour sleepathon, it should not.

My creative drive is more robust than ever, I'm happy to report, but clarity is coming in small bursts instead of large, sustainable waves. Today though, I went back to one of my favorite cures for fatiguing and disappointing bouts of ADD: a long overdue power walk loop through Forest Park. Extra points due to the misting shower that semi-soaked me.

For a while I lived at the edge of that great park, and more recently I leased an office down the street from it. Now that I'm over the hill from the Lower Macleay it takes a more forethought and planning to traipse along its majestic trails. But like all welcome habits, halfway through my walk today, my spirit and sense of actualness returned to me, and things I'd been mulling over dutifully aligned with the blessed sense of order I'd been seeking.

I returned to my desk energized and focused. And rested, even. But more than anything, grateful--which is, for me, most important of all.