talkinthepark

[talkinthepark]

Walk With Me

The 4 conversations I had with myself over the course of a two mile walk:

Why won’t you write? What prevents your pen from meeting paper? You need to cultivate the habit of writing. Whatever you hear, whatever you see, whatever comes to mind, whatever profound wisdom you receive. 

You see, it’s gotten a bit harder to articulate myself, and I have spent years now thinking so much yet speaking so little. My inner dialogue has subsided because--and I just realized this--I don’t like wasting my words for any reason. I try not to misspeak, to be perfectly and accurately understood. Reading more will help me to recover that gift and strengthen that skill I previously had. The type of writing I create doesn’t matter, but I spend unnecessary time thinking about how to do it correctly. Because correctness brings me fulfillment. I feel that there’s is a certain way that everything is supposed to be said. I want to develop my mind and speech to where every thought I decide to share, and everything that I decide to say, is said and uttered exactly how it is supposed to, so it can be understood how it needs to. 

On this walk through my neighborhood about five weeks ago, I confronted laziness. The next question I asked myself, “How did you get here?  What keeps you from taking this walk more often?” After scrolling idly on social media for a silly amount of time, I tossed my phone to the side, put on a coat and Crocs, and stormed out of the house as if leaving a heated argument. I decided to be present; no phone, no music, no company. “What keeps you from taking this walk more often?” After all, this is a beautiful place, a beautiful path that I’m walking on, a path that belongs to me, that I have exclusive access to whenever I want. God blessed me with this place, to move through and find whatever I’m looking for. 

I realized that I have a lot of reflecting to do while walking along this two mile path, ironically called Legacy. Plenty of gratitude to catch up on. I took a detour off of the path that I had never taken before. The ground was smooth. God had to bring me out of a prior place in order for me be on this smooth, curved, and paved path I’m walking on. And I remember that prior place, and the places before that. I need to look back on the losses, the relationships, the procrastination, the help, the extremely long months of uncertainty that consistently bring tears to my eyes. I need to review what situations I was up against at the time God did what he did, so I can then look forward with real, true, fortified expectancy. 

I observed that my day to day life had become myopic. I rarely stepped outside unless absolutely necessary. Life outside of work had become sedentary for the most part, so giving my body some movement, my eyes some sunlight, and my mind some exposure to natural structures that I rarely take the time to just look at, felt good. I hoped to find a connection between why I won’t walk, why I won’t write, and why I won’t pray, triangulate the three, and then start to make some changes. Even though I was looking for reason’s why I wasn’t, I didn’t need a reason in order start doing these things every day.

“You think you can pick up that rock?” I asked myself. About two minutes into the detour, and I approached a large rock off to the side of the trail. Out of deep thought or simple amusement, I bent down and tried to lift up focusing on my legs. I hoisted about 5 times, shifting it right and left to loosen it from the ground it may have been partially buried into, then pulled a sixth time. I figured that with the proper form and sheer will, I’d be able to lift it no matter how heavy. Never mind the fact that I hadn’t done so much as a push-up in months, I could lift this rock with innate strength, mental fortitude and every ounce of effort and desire I had.

I quit trying, and continued my journey through this new place I had been living in for five years. I probably could have controlled my breath better, but it’s too heavy for me right now. The most stubborn and irrational opinion I hold is that I should be able to know and do everything, without having to learn or practice anything. Does that make sense? A backflip, cooking, coding, painting a mural of a landscape, swimming, skating, or playing an instrument, whatever it is, I should know how to do it if I have at least seen it be done. I don’t live by this thought, but it gets in my way very often. My failed attempt to lift that rock reminded me of that mindset. If I see a rock and I want to and believe that I can lift it in my current state of being, I should be able to. If I see a piano and I want to and believe that I can play it, I should be able to in my current state of mind. If my current level of effort and capability isn’t enough to succeed, I’m perplexed and a bit disappointed, but accepting. These are simple truths I’m encountering; there’s nothing profound about finding out that I have to get stronger if I want to lift heavy objects or read if I want to learn new things. But in that moment it let me know that I struggle with accepting the growth and learning process when it comes to certain thing in life. The time, persistence, and repeated failure aren’t very appealing, these skills should already be present within me, this strength should already exist inside me. So what gives?

“Have you ever been in a convertible?” I’ve reached the beginning of the neighborhood, passing a red and off-white vintage Buick convertible while taking the crosswalk in front of the Bellingrath subdivision. There are a few small experiences in my life that I haven’t had yet, but think about from time to time. Like riding in a convertible and wondering what that feels like. The thrill would be immense I’m sure, but would it last very long? How satisfying would it be for me? The expectation says very, but reality probably says only slightly. I could go to a dealership and test drive one right now, I may very well enjoy it. But am I content with someone else providing this experience? If not, my desires require faith in God, coupled with a committed work ethic and discipline to equip myself with the means to bring them about. Much like picking up that rock in my path requires additional strength and power, obtaining that convertible for whenever I need to relive that experience requires a different and better place financially. 

Fulfillment. . .That’s all I am searching for in this life, all I’ve been pondering on while taking this walk. I find fulfillment in writing, in being able to articulate and express thoughts through words. My fixation on doing it “right” or “correctly” is still a mystery, but is the primary culprit I can point to for why I don’t do it more. This story or essay, for one, isn’t the best I can do. It took me entirely too long, and I’m not at all satisfied. But after seeing all the improvements I can make, I’m glad to have written it. My ability to be better conflicts with my reluctance to do what it takes to get better. I have a small fear of effort and time spent towards anything that doesn’t bear fruit. The effort is abundant, but the older I get the more time seems like a finite resource. I read a retelling of a conversation between Tom Hanks and director Bob Zemeckis, while filming Forrest Gump for the 27th day in a row. He asked Bob if anyone would care about this film, to which Bob replied, “It’s a minefield, Tom. You never know what’s good. . .it’s a minefield, it’s a d*mn minefield! We may be sowing the seeds of our own destruction!”  Zemeckis’s words held true for every movie he worked on. It’s jarring, yet very telling that the feeling of uncertainty is the stickiest memory for the 5th highest-grossing actor of all time. John Keats explained in a poem that rarer than talent or work ethic is the ability to step into and push through doubts and uncertainties. “In 1817, Keats wrote a letter to his brothers on this: ‘At once it struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement. . .Negative Capability.’” The ability to sit with uncertainty, and spend months or years “in the minefield that is working on something,” knowing that not a soul may even care. Not for the sake of money or fame, not as a means to an end or even for the sake of victory, but for the sake of doing it. As for me, the work of building strength and lifting heavier has to be the win, not picking up that rock. The work of building wealth and persevering has to be win, not riding in the convertible. The work of writing daily, learning more, growing and gaining knowledge and skills that can never be taken from me, has to be the win, not doing it right or correctly.

The work has to be the win.