Morning falls like wind at my back. Around lap five running around a lake clear as glass, it lands in my body that I’m willing to take up space, claim my power, be as big as I am, and actually give others permission to not like me, or like me, whatever they feel.

I have been on a one-woman campaign to have everyone like me since middle school. If anyone didn’t like me, I thought everyone would turn on me and my life would be destroyed…again… like it was in 4th grade.

A girl runs through Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery
A girl runs through Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery. By DGPM18 – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=73205195

I felt, at long last, my entire body including my neck and shoulders, those long-held last stands for control, fear, and tension, relax into the day.

I “got” a nudge to go running during my morning check-in with nature and spirit, and I honestly balked. But then I did it anyway because, well, following those inklings usually helps me…like a lot. This run, I couldn’t believe it, like How did you know that’s what I needed? Thank you.

Random issue I’ve dealt with lately re: running: I’m a morning eliminator to the point that I now have active conversations with my bowels that go like this: Okay, I’m leaving to run soon. Gotta go? Good, let’s go now. Oh, now, nope now’s really not the best time. Now you need to wait until we get back, K?

Gabriel Garcia Marquez has this quote in “Love in the Time of Cholera.” Something to the effect of those who know how to enjoy a great shit are the same people who really truly know how to surrender themselves to lovemaking. I know I should try and look it up, but I’m just not comfortable googling anything on the internet that involves excrement. Call me a prude, a product of my generation. I don’t feel like a product of anything, mind you. That’s one of the gifts of running: I blow past my limits and it reminds me to go big rather than small in everything, in all things.

I love creepy crawly things. I’m kind to my small places. It’s just so important they have that wild sunshine and sweat perspective that we are holy, whole, and utterly enormous. We are magnificent. And so yes, now you can feel shy again and it’s okay, dear.

It’s another extraordinary day all buttered up and ready for you to take a bite.

I stopped snacking on my pumpkin seeds and chocolate chips when I got a call from my ex in the sunshine. Afterward, I stuck my hand in the dish and it came up gummy wonderful with melted chocolate. One of the small but mighty miracles of our shared sun.

I feel exhausted and yet better, so much better than ever before. This life has been an evolution. All roads lead to this holy encounter of me with my vast self in the succulent bridge between heaven and Earth.

The sunshine splashes off my shoulders, into the river of light in my belly, washes me clean. Just like that, even my 3-day shirt smells good. We are all things to all people just the way we are. Trying to change anything, anything at all away from our vast centers only drives a stake between what’s possible and the all of everything. So there. Beware. I, I dare to fully embody my all perfection in its imperfections and its grace. I dare to be all of me and claim it all for this human space.

My human race.

A very cute small white dog runs with an enormous smile on its face.
Photo by Joe Caione on Unsplash