Walking. Being A Little More Human.

~ Live & Learn

Monday. 4:48 a.m. Why so early? There is some logic, disturbing as it may seem to some, to catch twilight, or daybreak, or first light or whatever you may want to call it — I have to leave the house precisely 60 minutes from Sunrise. And since Sunrise changes every day, and I have no clue why, my rise-and-go changes daily. For this machine is wound as tight as a Swiss Clock. Precisely (Mostly.) Daily. (Generally.)

So back to the walk. 747 consecutive days on this daybreak walk at Cove Island Park. Like in a row. (Almost.)

64° F, feels like 62° F. This is from the Dark Sky App. No bloody chance in hell it’s even close. Wind gusting up to 20 mph. It feels like a brisk 49°. And thank the lightening bolt premonition before I left the house — I put on a windbreaker or this would have been a damn short walk this morning. And be damed, if I’m still not cold.

So, back to the walk. It’s 4:50 a.m. and I’m getting out of the car. There’s only one other car in the parking lot. What sort of other lunatic is up at this hour? In case of a future need, this may be a match for bone marrow transplant, or white cell transplant, there’s gotta be some bone-to-bone connection here.

I sling the straps of my backpack over my shoulders, synch down the straps, lock the car, and walk.

And walk.

And there he is. The owner of the other car. He’s approaching. He’s carrying a white cleaning caddy in his right hand. Two toilet brushes, cleaning supplies, rags. The white of the caddy, is as white as my egrets. It illuminates the darkness.

I approach, shifting to the right of the path to adhere to the CDC’s 6 foot distancing guidance. Because I follow rules. (Mostly.)

He notices my shift. I know he notices. No, no, no. Not for the reasons you think.

I try to quickly correct with a perky “Good Morning!”, but he drops and turns his head away before I can get a look at him. He keeps walking, with his caddy briskly swaying back and forth at his side.

747 (almost) consecutive days. I have not one time, not once, used the public restroom. (That’s grist for a story for another day.) And not one time have I seen anyone at this hour (or any hour) cleaning the facilities. But someone does it right? Maybe this Someone has a 2nd or third job. To pay for the electricity. To pay $4.87/gallon to get to work. To pay for his Son’s shoes.

I stop and watch him get into his car and drive away.

And I walk. Unsettled.

My mind, how it does it, I have no idea, shifts to recall a share from Beth @ Alive on All Channels. It comes from Jim Palmer, founder of “The Center for Non-Religious Spirituality”. Non-Religious Spirituality, caught my attention. Now, I’m listening.

“I’m a late bloomer. Better late than never. I once thought I was getting more emotional with age, but then I realized I was only recovering my humanity…I once was a frozen man, but I thawed out. My heart and I become friends, and we could no longer betray the other. Free at last. I believe in the goodness of our common humanity, however diminished, bruised or buried it might sometimes seem. The saga of our species found something transcendent within ourselves and discovered that acting upon it was wise, meaningful, and beautiful. I believe when we are true to our highest nature, we are loving, kind, peaceful, compassionate, empathetic, kind, caring, courageous, generous and accordant. Religion taught me that being human was the problem. Eventually I discovered that the problem was not being human enough.”

Hmmmmm.

I once was a frozen man, but I thawed out…eventually I discovered that the problem was not being human enough.”

…and now I’m leaking all over…

Notes:

  • Photo: Daybreak. 5:08 am, May 23, 2022. 64° F. Cove Island Park, CT. Other photos from yesterday’s morning walk here.

27 thoughts on “Walking. Being A Little More Human.”

  2. I don’t like it when a person can’t even find the decency to say good morning back. Quite often I pass people coming towards me on the sidewalk (two people alone, as though we might as well be the only two people on the planet), and the other person won’t make eye contact or even grunt as much as, “Ugh! Nice day, eh?” I find myself wondering what has happened to make humans sink so low. Even someone like your toiler cleaner could have spared a grunted hello for you. What is wrong with people?!

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    1. Same park. Another Man walks each morning. He carries a large flash light. It’s never on. I said good morning to him twice. He just stared at me. Every morning I pass him. I glare at him. He glares at me. I think: “What is wrong with him?”. Then another part of me says: “Could he be Mute?”

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      1. Try giving him a friendly smile and a wave next time. I don’t think that’s what the problem is, though. Even if he is deaf, he must know you’re saying good morning to him and he could smile and raise a hand. Some people!!!

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  4. I so love this long paragraph at the end. that’s it, we’re becoming more human again, I feel the same. and all of your ‘mostly’s, almost’s, and ‘generally’s” certainly make you more human as well.

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    1. Thanks Beth. That’s it. Your thoughts remind me of:

      “Imperfections are part of the display of life. Joy and sorrow, birth and death are the dance of existence throughout which our awakened consciousness can shine. Yet we long for perfection. The perfect partner, house, job, boss, and spiritual teacher. And when we find them, we want them to stay that way forever, never to lose the glow, never to grow old, never to have the roof sag, the paint peeling.

      We’re also taught to seek perfection in ourselves. We are told that if we do enough therapy, work out at the gym, eat an especially healthy diet, watch documentaries on TV, manage our cholesterol, and meditate enough, we will become “more perfect.”

      Forget the tyranny of perfection. Let your imperfections be an invitation to care.”

      ~Jack Kornfield, from “The Tyranny of Perfection” (via Make Believe Boutique)

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      1. oh, I love that. like the shaker community who purposely build with misplaced and mis-sized bricks here and there, to remind us that humans built this, we are not gods, and therefore imperfect and humble.

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        1. Yes Shinto! Or: Kintsugi is the Japanese art of putting broken pottery pieces back together with gold — built on the idea that in embracing flaws and imperfections, you can create an even stronger, more beautiful piece of art.

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  7. Reblogged this on It Is What It Is and commented:
    Your walks!! … “So back to the walk. 747 consecutive days on this daybreak walk at Cove Island Park. Like in a row. (Almost.) – Admire you!! … Photo: Daybreak. 5:08 am, May 23, 2022. 64° F. Cove Island Park, CT.

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  8. A million possible reasons why he didn’t respond — did he see your camera? Maybe you seemed a threat (homeless beggar/random mugger about to ask/shoot for money and no one else was around); maybe no one was ever supposed to see him with the cleaning caddy — and if he didn’t acknowledge it, it didn’t happen. Or, maybe he’s still frozen. Or, yes, perhaps deaf. 🌷 No worries. You tried. He heard.

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  9. How beautiful that you questioned yourself! So few people wonder if somehow they have something to learn from an encounter. Bottom line, you questioned rather than judged. And, we all came along for the ride. Wow, you can write!

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