Walk With Me!

I’ve been thinking of going out for a hike or a walk for the past few weeks, but either the weather wasn’t permitting it, or the threat of coyotes kept me at bay. Yes, the Wildlife Dept. has posted signs near our neighborhood to keep an eye out for these. A few months ago, a mountain lion was spotted sauntering down our sidewalk, too. So, I figured better inside whole and out of shape, than outside chewed up and thinner!

Today, I decided to take my chances.

Finding Metaphors

Music check. Jacket, check. Decided to stick to the neighborhood roads. It was trash day today and somehow I got stuck with the garbage truck along the way. For ten minutes I tried outpacing it. This was not the lovely, fresh air, smell of pines, that I had envisioned. And then the mind exploded. Once my stream of consciousness is given free reign, all hell breaks loose up there. (This usually happens at night when I’m trying to sleep). Anyway, as I quickened my pace, with no avail, always being head-to-head with the trash collectors, I couldn’t help thinking, this is life. Just when you think the you’re done with junk, it comes back to haunt you!

Luckily, the truck took a right, and I altered my original route. More life. You think one thing, and another happens. What’s that saying, “Man proposes, God disposes.” Or, I prefer Tennessee Williams version – “ Man proposes, and woman accepts – the proposal!” Which leads me to the other day when I was reminded about my proposal. I’d been reading the book When Breath Become Air, by Paul Kalanithi. It’s about a neurosurgeon who gets diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer at the peak of his career. On his last weekend alive, (at this stage, ironically the cancer has attacked his neurological functions, and he has to recite poetry to keep practicing his memorization skills) he chooses T.S. Elliot’s The Waste Land. If you are wondering how the heck this is related to my marriage proposal, bear with me.

About twenty years ago, still a student of Masters in English Literature, I had been chosen to recite Elliot’s East Coker at a poetry recitation contest. The contest was barely over (I think I placed third) when Azfar and his parents paid us a visit. My parents decided it would be a fabulous idea for me to recite the piece in front of them. Perhaps they missed seeing my eyes widening, or the frantic shake of my head, or the polite excuses. Nevertheless, I found myself standing in a corner and reciting “ In my beginning is my end……!” What a way to start a relationship! How Azfar ever said yes after that is beyond me! The earth should have opened up and swallowed me whole. Later that evening, our dog, sensing rivalry, decided to go berserk on him, too. Throughout dinner it whined and scratched on the door, making any conversation, impossible. God bless Azfar for still going through with our engagement, despite a very strange evening 😊

Back to the walk…

The weather was cold and gray today, but for walking, I prefer that to a sunny day. You get to bundle up, feel the crisp air, and walk faster to keep warm. The snow from a few days prior, was nearly all melted. Somewhere a pair of doves flew overhead, a squirrel ran up a tree. No coyotes in sight. In the distance, the mountains were clad in shiny, white peaks. Perfect! I think I was enjoying it so much, that I looked around to find that I had ventured much farther than I ever had before. No, I didn’t panic. Panic was what I had felt when I was around 15, and decided to run away from the house. It had lasted less than thirty minutes. The walk around the block was the extent of my adventure. The stream of consciousness then was primarily thoughts of being abducted, overpowered, killed. ‘Chowkidars’ guarding their houses, smoking their ‘beedi’, eying every movement, all seemed like hardened criminals. That was that. All my rebellion fizzled out. I was back home. I don’t think my parents even knew that I had left the house!

Staying Astrologically Typical

Today, there was no panic. Just the thought of the long stretch that had to be traversed to get back home. I had overwalked and overthought. My hip was hurting, but my mind was noisy. I hate to say it, but I was being typical. A typical Aquarian. ( Suprisingly, this was spot on)

If you do a google search of Aquarian characteristics, almost all of them will mention detachment and coldness. I’ve had friends tell me later, that their first impression of me was that I was proud, reserved, almost stand-offish. Guilty as charged! Half the time Aquarians are fighting with their own internal monologues and chaotic brains. This leaves no time for sympathy or fluff.

I’m going to do the inconceivable. Let you in my brain. Here’s a snapshot of a few minutes while walking back today (curse words have been duly omitted for your reading pleasure):

Stream of Consciousness:

“Berries on the ground. Everything rots and then blossoms back in spring. It’s mixing with rabbit poop. Why did that rabbit poop get so close to the pavement? The light falls beautifully here. Good place for a picture. Perfectly trimmed hedges. Trim the bushes….snicker! Finally, some evergreen, pinewood smells. This seems like walking in Abbottabad. Oh look! That’s a really yellow house. Why am I craving lemon meringue pie, all of a sudden? Are there enough eggs at home to make it? Maybe that’ll be a good addition to the blog. Why am I even blogging? Who cares what I think? Wait a minute, I care what I think.

Is the soul a product of morality? Does God recycle souls? Reincarnation? That’s double-dipping…wouldn’t be fair. Are memories and soul one and the same? If you don’t remember anything, who are you really? But people suffering from Alzheimer’s would have a sense of their soul, their morality. What if I get Alzheimers. At least, then I can read my own blogs and know who I am. I’m overthinking this.

I sound like Dory (Finding Nemo).
Think about nothing. Enjoy the scenery.
I’m not even half way home. Groan!

What was I thinking when I made this playlist. There’s J-lo right after Kishore, followed by Aloe Blac and Khaled. American pop, Bollywood retro, blues and Arabic belly dance. It’s groovy, though. Would it seem weird if I started dancing while walking? Of course, it will. This would be good for the next wedding. I still haven’t done that flash mob we discussed a year ago. Must cross off bucket list. Maybe Castle Rock has a flash mob club? Nah, probably not.

Why is this taking so long? I should cross the road. Wait, what? It’s all uphill!

I’ll be late now. I have to get back to go watch Haaris belay. He asked me to come and watch. Why didn’t I sign up to belay him? Taimoor never asked me to come watch him. Those two are getting really good at table tennis. I’m getting pretty good at table-tennis! I gave birth to those two monkeys. My monkeys (involuntary smile) Really? How come I don’t remember it….one was ripped out of my body, the other put me out of commission for a month. I should remember that pain. Yet I remember my strep throat more lucidly than giving birth. Funny…I’m wearing T’s shoes. Another year, I’ll be forty. What??

Where is the darn house?? I need chocolate! Stop thinking about chocolate. How do people meditate? Yoga?………..“

And so it goes on and on! Writing is the only thing that saves me from going completely bonkers. That, and a little chocolate, of course!