What was Walt Whitman talking about in Leaves of Grass?
What did he think and consider and open himself up to,
to go on and on with such colorful elaboration?
Phrase after phrase, all connected,
describes the American frontier differently.
I’m in love with it – the flowing river of inspiration.
I smell it when I travel to parts less familiar.
I see it in the faces of countless strangers.
I hear it in the turbulent murmurs around me.
Everyone has an accent, and it is amazing.
If you run, you know about routines. You know it can be important to keep a routine if you want to run harder, faster, longer. Pushing yourself is hard to accomplish without a routine. All fitness has results with a routine. Go exercise more than three times a week, and I call that a routine. Even once a week is the beginnings of a routine, but to effectively pursue excellence, you need to make it a part of your daily life.
The same applies for all good and bad things in life. Routine builds tolerance, endurance, and discipline. Routine keeps life moving forward at a consistent pace. It’s what motivates us to pursue that excellence in all of us. It’s what brings each foot in front of the other, each inhale and exhale, each day and night. Routine is the force that drives me – it doesn’t control me – I control it with my own desires to achieve.
Respect is deserved on the street. There are so many people out there, and half of them are oblivious… with good reasons. They got their headphones on, their sunglasses on and their voice boxes all a twitter. That’s a cynical observation; most of us are all walking in one direction, and can’t see what’s behind us. It’s good to be aware of your surroundings, or if not, to stick to a region of the sidewalk in anticipation of people passing you by. People pass on the left… mostly.
As for runners, we need to respect what’s around us. We’re usually more aware of our surroundings than the rest – we go fast, but not fast enough to miss a beat. The cars and the bicycles have reign over the road, and when you’re the pedestrian, you have to respect the rules of their road. The only problem (and peeve) is slowing down at someone else’s expense. Drivers pull up past the stop signs and crosswalks, bicycles ride on the sidewalk, and you’re average pedestrian wanders and sidles all over.
Everyone, we need to share respect for one another. We must respect families with their children, their infant babies just learning how to walk, and their dogs that don’t know any better. We must respect the people holding too much, taking on too much to stay apprised of quick changes. Respect the runners that run after something, because they don’t take kindly to stopping or slowing down. Make way, if you can, and don’t dally. Share in the mutual exchange of respect, and no harm will come to you.
I wake up to an empty home. I clean up and get a call from Barney sometime before lunch. He’s coming to pick me up; he doesn’t want me or anyone to be around when Gigi’s mom comes back to the house. I ask him why, and he tells me about this time when she walked in on him having a threesome with Gigi in her bedroom. It’s been awkward ever since.
He takes me on a random drive around town. While on the road, he asks me how wild he thought things would get while I’m out here. I didn’t really know what he was getting at. Before we parked the truck on an open strip of road somewhere, Barney tells me that Al Gore bought up a bunch of property in this area.
A cold breeze wisps wintry air,
slowly returning the cycle full.
It reminds me of the tree green cry
as autumn brings the summer’s ending.
Look how moved the wood is, still;
it changes in place while the others remain.
There will be sadness when received the water bill;
it’s drought will shed red, yellow, and brown.