Re-Sourcing Activism

“The frenzy of our activism neutralizes our work for peace.  It destroys our own inner capacity for peace.  It destroys the fruitfulness of our own work, because it kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work fruitful.” ~ Thomas Merton

This morning, I put on the yellow Champion polyester shirt matching the yellow Polar watch that records heart rate, calories and miles.  I am training for a race in Marina Bay in June.  A month ago, I started running again, 20 years and a half a dozen injuries after I stopped.

During the walk to the Berkeley Aquatic Park, my preferred running site, I noticed a tiny bird whose name I do not know sitting on the edge of a rooftop, singing its heart out.  The trees framing the sides of the house swayed and rattled in the cool air, and a soft sun peeked through the web of leaves. A bush of geranium flowers tickled my nose when I breathed in its sweetness. In the back of my mind, a scolding voice demanded that I “stop it with the distractions” and “get to it.” A few steps later, a bed of roses, pink, red and coral, each with its own scent, called to me. A few more steps after that, a brown furry cat with green eyes approached me cautiously, then moved closer to caress my calves with its torso while brushing my knee with its tail. Across the street, a little girl next to a kneeling mother pointed and smiled our way.

“I don’t want to miss that,” my heart whispered.

The scolding voice was low yet still audible: “You are wasting time.”  I put my hand to my heart and forgave myself. I forgave myself for having resistance to healthy exercise. I forgave myself for not meeting my own high expectations of the moment. I put my hand to my heart and felt something else open: Patience. I trusted I would start my run after I crossed the train tracks near Bolivar Drive. I trusted I could still add value to life even when I wasn’t “making it happen.”

My run started out slow, focusing on ease of breath and step. I easily fell into a rhythm, with my body warming up, my limbs easing into agility. At first, I was running intervals, meaning I was running for a certain amount of breaths and walking fast for another set amount of breaths. My own body nudged me into running longer and longer intervals, while honoring the breaths of “rest” in between. In what seemed like a blink, I passed what has been my regular turnaround point. I waved at the shaded platform that juts out into the water, into duck and kayak territory, knowing I could run a full circle around the water this time, and that I could run to the end without stopping. The trees and wind and endless sky all seemed to agree. There was only this knowing, and ease. There was no pushing.

When I met my goal, I lifted my arms and imagined myself breaking a blue race ribbon, coming in first, me with my objections, my judgments and the roses, ducks, kayaks, Frisbees, dogs and children that I met along the way. Felt like a “we” win.

I remembered the words of Martin Prechtel: “Life is a race to be elegantly run, not a race to be competitively won.”

I opened my apartment door to kick off my black sneakers and reach for my notepad. In it, I scribbled:

“From the fantasy that isolates to the dream that reconnects.”

Tell me…

Do you have an ideal you punish and isolate yourself for not meeting?

What helps you reconnect to inspiration, ease and belonging?

Tell me so I can forgive myself a little more, and run with you.