<<< this is my current read. and it is seriously rocking my socks right off. and it's
sortof reminding me of myself. It's a memoir; Cheryl Strayed tells her journey on the
Pacific Crest Trail and a lot of other things that led up to her making the haphazard
decision to do so. Among many other brilliant things she writes about, the thing that
is most catching my attention at this very moment is her struggles on the trail. She
fully admits that she is less than capable of hiking for 3 months in the wilderness, but
she is bold. Time and time again she describes the feeling of her feet on the trail and
how her muscles ache and how good it feels to just sit and be still after a long day of
hiking. It's a great deal more than hiking, but it's reminding me of something that I
have forgotten:
I am a mover.
sortof reminding me of myself. It's a memoir; Cheryl Strayed tells her journey on the
Pacific Crest Trail and a lot of other things that led up to her making the haphazard
decision to do so. Among many other brilliant things she writes about, the thing that
is most catching my attention at this very moment is her struggles on the trail. She
fully admits that she is less than capable of hiking for 3 months in the wilderness, but
she is bold. Time and time again she describes the feeling of her feet on the trail and
how her muscles ache and how good it feels to just sit and be still after a long day of
hiking. It's a great deal more than hiking, but it's reminding me of something that I
have forgotten:
I am a mover.
Maybe "a mover" is a poor way of describing it; let me explain. What I mean is, all through my life, I have been filled and felt awake by
movement. I ran all throughout middle and high school, I hiked, I drive all over just for fun, I bike, I move. I love the feeling of my
muscles aching because it makes me feel like I've done something, it reminds me that I have moved. (Let me be clear, just because I like to
move does not mean that I don't cherish times when I don't have to move a single finger. I believe that rest must follow movement.)
But this afternoon, as I was reading Wild, I was inspired and desired to share in Cheryl Strayed's aching muscles and sore feet. So I laced
up my boots and drove to the best hiking trails around and just moved, for a good long while.
I've struggled a lot with wanting to "be" something better. Mostly here I am referring to loving my body and the times that I don't.
Which is most of the time. BUT. I realized something today. I've always wanted to be more in shape, to be a runner because that's what
my dad and brother did, to be a super cool in-shape outdoorsy girl who shops at REI and is not afraid of anything and who has hiked and
ran every trail available to me and who tackles bears and has huge arm muscles because I fight off mountain lions (okay, I am getting
carried away.) And I'm really not that girl. To some extent, I suppose I am. But I realized today that I don't have to become a runner or
become a super cool in-shape outdoorsy girl. I can be those things because I am a mover, and I love the feeling of moving. I am someone
who loves to be in motion and to hear the sweet soft thud of dirt beneath my feet (fun fact- that is my favorite sound.)
I think sometimes we let our dreams scare us into not dreaming them anymore. I dream to be a runner so badly because I want to be in
shape and I want to be able to climb anything and hike anywhere any of the time. But sometimes I dream too much instead of doing it
and then I dream it out of reach. The more I think of it, the more I think, "I can't do that. I'm not even close to being good enough
or thin enough or determined enough." But that is just BULL CRAP! Because I am a mover! And as long as my feet will carry me, I will
live to hear the sound of dirt beneath my shoes, I will run as fast as my legs can take me, and I will hike through the forest because I feel
right there and it brings me life. I am a dirt treader, a mover, and maybe someday, I will be a super cool in-shape outdoorsy girl who
shops at REI.
For now I am content knowing that I can attain those things simply by pulling on my boots and walking outside. Praise Jesus for that.
movement. I ran all throughout middle and high school, I hiked, I drive all over just for fun, I bike, I move. I love the feeling of my
muscles aching because it makes me feel like I've done something, it reminds me that I have moved. (Let me be clear, just because I like to
move does not mean that I don't cherish times when I don't have to move a single finger. I believe that rest must follow movement.)
But this afternoon, as I was reading Wild, I was inspired and desired to share in Cheryl Strayed's aching muscles and sore feet. So I laced
up my boots and drove to the best hiking trails around and just moved, for a good long while.
I've struggled a lot with wanting to "be" something better. Mostly here I am referring to loving my body and the times that I don't.
Which is most of the time. BUT. I realized something today. I've always wanted to be more in shape, to be a runner because that's what
my dad and brother did, to be a super cool in-shape outdoorsy girl who shops at REI and is not afraid of anything and who has hiked and
ran every trail available to me and who tackles bears and has huge arm muscles because I fight off mountain lions (okay, I am getting
carried away.) And I'm really not that girl. To some extent, I suppose I am. But I realized today that I don't have to become a runner or
become a super cool in-shape outdoorsy girl. I can be those things because I am a mover, and I love the feeling of moving. I am someone
who loves to be in motion and to hear the sweet soft thud of dirt beneath my feet (fun fact- that is my favorite sound.)
I think sometimes we let our dreams scare us into not dreaming them anymore. I dream to be a runner so badly because I want to be in
shape and I want to be able to climb anything and hike anywhere any of the time. But sometimes I dream too much instead of doing it
and then I dream it out of reach. The more I think of it, the more I think, "I can't do that. I'm not even close to being good enough
or thin enough or determined enough." But that is just BULL CRAP! Because I am a mover! And as long as my feet will carry me, I will
live to hear the sound of dirt beneath my shoes, I will run as fast as my legs can take me, and I will hike through the forest because I feel
right there and it brings me life. I am a dirt treader, a mover, and maybe someday, I will be a super cool in-shape outdoorsy girl who
shops at REI.
For now I am content knowing that I can attain those things simply by pulling on my boots and walking outside. Praise Jesus for that.