#353: Changing Seasons

I do a lot of walking myself. I have my own loop here in Manhattan and oftentimes I think about how no matter how many times I seem to walk the same steps, something about them is different each time. I love the way Amanda tells this story so simply but with so much meaning.  There is one sentence in this blog that is truly my favorite, but I will let you read on and choose yours :) 

- Christina

Changing Seasons

I've walked the same exact trail through the woods almost every evening after work for the last year. It's a pretty quiet walk. In fact, I've always been surprised by how few people I pass as I mosey on this two mile loop with my pups.

For the last twelve months, I got to see how beautifully the state park changes during each of the four seasons. In the fall, the crisp leaves perfectly decorate the path in front of me. During winter, the vegetation is significantly lighter which gives me the opportunity to venture off trail and sit on one of the barren branches, breathing and becoming more conscious of the very still natural surroundings with each cold foggy exhale. In the spring and summer, everything becomes so lush and there's tons of activity, from butterflies dancing around me to rabbits and deer coming in and out of the brush. 

Throughout the last year, I always felt emotions catch up to me at this point in the day, weighing on me heavily as I trekked on. Knowing it was rare to pass another person, I'd let tears fall when they needed to. My woods-walks not only served as an escape, but a huge release. I had been going through a messy break up as well as some other personal challenges, so those late autumn and winter walks felt especially gloomy. Despite my energetic dogs pulling me forward, I usually was pretty sluggish. And I never seemed to wear enough layers to combat the ever-looming cold. 

But when this past spring rolled around and the forest perked up, I finally did too. I noticed more energy and movements around the now-vibrant trees which reflected in my own physical body as well. And though it was still just me walking the trail, I didn't feel as alone. In fact, instead of crying to the soft songs I sometimes listened to, I began singing along to more upbeat playlists, even dancing at times. No one was around to see me embarrass myself, so why not? 

Now here we are in the height of summer, my favorite season of all. 

One day last month, I decided to change up my routine and went walking in the morning instead. It was refreshing to spend the first hour of the day in nature. I relished in the oxygen high as I exited the woods for what seemed like the thousandth time. Now back on the paved trail returning to the parking lot, I embraced the feeling of the intense sun beating on my shoulders, the beads of sweat on my forehead, and my two fur friends happily panting ahead. It wasn't until I noticed another fellow dog walker whose path would merge with mine that I decided to hit pause on my music. My dogs began eagerly pulling towards his dogs, so we struck up a conversation. One question led to the next, and I ended up finishing the rest of the trail with this rather talkative stranger. 

Fast forward to today, and this stranger no longer is one. Funnily enough, we're dating now. We've shared countless laughs and fun experiences as we've gotten to know one another recently. And many dog walks are now with him. He's super thoughtful, is great with my family, and most importantly, he loves and appreciates the cold seasons, unlike my highly sunshine-mood-dependent self. 

I'm glad our paths crossed (literally) because regardless of whether I end up having a real future with this person or we break up next week, I'm simply happy for what this recent series of events has reminded me: That just like the seasons, life always can and will change. Sadness and dark times are inevitable, but it can't stay winter forever. The joys I've experienced with him have shown me that sometimes it takes just one morning, one decision, one change in thought pattern, or one step in another direction for change to unfold. I would never have expected when I woke up that day that such a surprise encounter lay ahead. And perhaps it's the ongoing possibility of new possibilities that adds an element of excitement and potential to each day. 

Today was one of the first days in a year I didn't do my walk. Instead I'm sitting to write, feeling immense gratitude for the many loved ones who started off as strangers. And for people who remind me that life always has the potential to change for the better, even when not expecting it to. Perhaps especially then.