Y? Because I like to. I live a mile away from the YMCA. I joined six years ago when I first came to Winston-Salem, because I had to have something to do while waiting. I was waiting for travel documents to come for my brother and sister-in-law, so they could go to China to get their youngest little girl. I was waiting to figure out my next steps after having left my husband of thirty-three years. I was waiting for the marriage to be legally over, and waiting to see who I was and who I could become.
I love my Y. I lift weights. I ride a stationary bike. I take Gentle Yoga classes several times a week, and I’ve met some great people. I still find refuge in my Yoga class, though I don’t go as regularly as I did in the early days. My life has gotten happily busier! Nowadays, I walk. I used to walk with a friend who lived around the corner, but she moved away, so now I just walk by myself.
I do some of my best blog writing when I walk. Often, I will be inspired with a topic, and this past week was no exception. This post is the result.
Walking is scenic. It is rhythmic, and it is meditative. It takes one whole rosary to get to the front steps, and coming home, I usually work out a blog post in my head. Often, I remember it, and write and post. Many times, I don’t remember what I’d thought to write, only to have it pop up later.
It’s a gift to be able to live in such a beautiful and pedestrian-friendly place. It’s a gift to exercise my body and my mind. It’s a gift to be among friendly, kind, funny faces who greet me with welcoming words when I’ve missed a few classes. Walking to the Y is one of my gratitudes, often. Walking to the Y has been a huge part of who I am and who I have become. Who could ask for more? Prayers and fitness, and working out in more ways than one. It doesn’t get any better than this. Look at the photo. Get it?
Rightly named, and giving me the notion that I am an airhead, I have bought a new computer. Hoo-boy.
I don’t want to say, “What was I thinking?,” but what was I thinking? I wanted reliability, portability, and security. I probably DO have all three of those, but so far, I don’t have full usability, a critical element, for sure.
For instance, how do I word process to write my blog? How do I cut and paste? How do all the files work? And how do I know how much power I have left before I need to plug in? Can I have more than one screen open? How? What are the shortcuts? Can you hear my voice raising to a shriek? And where the heck is spell check?
I’m sure I’ll be building brain cells with this new and steep learning curve…that is if I don’t counteract the new cells by promptly destroying them when drinking wine to “relax” after a chat-fest with my new friend, Miss Mac.
It’s a dilemma. I’ll let you know how it all shakes down.
I’m told people make money blogging. I don’t know who they are or how they do it. Whatever money they get can’t be much.
So, I had to laugh at the absurdity of the idea expressed in a current TV commercial. A couple says, “No,” to a list of requests and questions until they can say, “Yes,” to some kind of food.
I’ve heard the part several times where the husband says, “I’m quitting my job and starting a blog.” It makes me laugh every time I hear it.
My dad asked me, “Why would you want all those people to know your business?” I don’t really feel that what I write about is that controversial or personal, though I have mentioned underwear and my broken marriage more often than I probably should. I consider what I write about to be more everyday realizations. Since I no longer have a husband to bounce random thoughts off of, I have found the paper to be my audience. Actually, I can be way more open to the blank page than I could be to him. I was so fearful of his anger and misinterpretations of most innocent and common comments. (Oops, my personal business… out there, again.)
So, I am quitting my job, not that I have one, and starting a blog, not that I didn’t start this blog a year ago. Blogging is cheaper than counseling, it sharpens my observations, and it connects me with others. Riches are relative.