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Another Walk
Jun. 9th, 2012 10:13 am"Another walk. And you seem to be feeling very chipper."
Yep. I'm in that frame of mind in which I wonder why I have not made a constant habit of this. It's not just the meager exercise, but the way it seems to free the mind, especially when one is reading good literature as part of the exercise, and "Hamlet" is certainly great for this: the tension between mother and son, the whole family dysfunction, the deathly disenchantment with life, the playing with Ophelia.
"What about that elderly white man? The one you were staring at. When you were sitting on the park bench."
He put things in better perspective. I've been looking at these walks as a sort of last hurrah. Too old too jog or to think seriously about building myself up. Then I see that guy, who could be in his eighties, or at least well into his seventies. Just to walk must seem like a severe strain to him. It must be like running a marathon. He trembles like he could fall over at any moment. It's probably not wise for him to go out on his own. That is a real last hurrah. But I'm also thinking that that could be me in another twenty years - if I'm lucky!
"Is this going to be a daily routine now?"
Oh, no. Maybe twice a week. If I did manage somehow to do this every day, I would probably lose a lot of the mental benefit, as I would get used to the exercise and develop a tolerance of sorts, so that it no long has this mentally stimulative benefit of jogging a lot of thoughts from me, which is the main reason to do this. The few calories I might be burnig off are hardly worth the time and trouble.
It's a meditative sort of thing. Indeed, maybe this is how I can take up my prayers again. Instead of bringing something to read, I could do the prayers. But I don't know. I like the free-flowing thought. Just repeating mantras might not be the best use of this time and effort. Shakespeare might be a good staple for these walks.
Yep. I'm in that frame of mind in which I wonder why I have not made a constant habit of this. It's not just the meager exercise, but the way it seems to free the mind, especially when one is reading good literature as part of the exercise, and "Hamlet" is certainly great for this: the tension between mother and son, the whole family dysfunction, the deathly disenchantment with life, the playing with Ophelia.
"What about that elderly white man? The one you were staring at. When you were sitting on the park bench."
He put things in better perspective. I've been looking at these walks as a sort of last hurrah. Too old too jog or to think seriously about building myself up. Then I see that guy, who could be in his eighties, or at least well into his seventies. Just to walk must seem like a severe strain to him. It must be like running a marathon. He trembles like he could fall over at any moment. It's probably not wise for him to go out on his own. That is a real last hurrah. But I'm also thinking that that could be me in another twenty years - if I'm lucky!
"Is this going to be a daily routine now?"
Oh, no. Maybe twice a week. If I did manage somehow to do this every day, I would probably lose a lot of the mental benefit, as I would get used to the exercise and develop a tolerance of sorts, so that it no long has this mentally stimulative benefit of jogging a lot of thoughts from me, which is the main reason to do this. The few calories I might be burnig off are hardly worth the time and trouble.
It's a meditative sort of thing. Indeed, maybe this is how I can take up my prayers again. Instead of bringing something to read, I could do the prayers. But I don't know. I like the free-flowing thought. Just repeating mantras might not be the best use of this time and effort. Shakespeare might be a good staple for these walks.
