"I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend four hours a day at least - and it is commonly more than that - sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, absolutely free from all worldly engagements." ~Henry David Thoreau
With SPS, 'sauntering' would be an achievement and four hours in the woods would be a news-breaking star search for me by the 911 rescue team. (I wouldn't get far!)
To maintain physical health, I need to nurture my spirit, and that requires times of solitude. Yesterday was such a nurturing time, a date with solitude.
Starting my morning with a wonderful dose of soul food at church, (wonderful message and stirring music), I stopped for a Subway $5.00 special. Recession savvy, six inches for lunch--six for supper, compliments of a gift card from one of my children.
I felt good, light, free...a delusional moment from my SPS reality. After savoring my lunchtime portion of Subway's Spicy Italian, (Sounds like a hero from a romance novel.), I donned my new lightweight walkers, grabbed my two hiking poles, and headed for the tranquility of a walking trail discussed at church.
Meandering along the river, ancient oaks provided an occasional canopy over the trail in cooling relief from the afternoon sun. In a shock to me, I crossed the road to access the trail with ease. Emboldened with my feat, I started walking along the trail, enjoying the faint breeze caressing my face.
Sometimes my body remembers how to move with a rusty fluidity pre-SPS. This brief respite allowed me to enjoy the beginning of my walk--sparkling water gently lapping the shore, the intermittent shriek of a sea gull, the rippling splash of a jumping fish, greeting a sporadic walker--feeling almost normal.
SPS sensitivities noticed cracks in the sidewalk, deep chasms to syndrome perception. Dips in the sidewalk resembled alpine declines. SPS paranoia lingered under the surface of my pleasure reminding me to breathe...slow, deep breaths.
"Good" is a window of time for me or a math equation. Medication + exertion = a set time. Reaching a point I mentally designated as halfway, I turned to go back. SPS is unpredictable. My perception of the same walk on my return was completely altered. Unnoticed expanses of open space emerged, coupled with the energy I had already exerted, made my return a challenge.
Breathe deep and slow, stop, bend and stretch my back. Stop, sit on this stump. Go to the next tree. Stop. Rest. Go to the sign. Stop, bend, breathe. Look down, look over the water. Stand still. Breathe. Crossing the road to my car loomed in my mind as the final major challenge. I prayed. Reaching the dreaded crosswalk, a woman was taking out her garbage from across the street. I asked her for help and she navigated me across the road.
Back in my car, I exhilarated in my walk with a toast of my remaining bottled water. "In spite of" SPS, I enjoyed the tranquility and beauty of the place and found healing comfort in my solitude.
After the fear threat subsided, the walk had limbered me. Feeling triumphant and deliciously feminine, I ran a hot bubble bath, (not too full), with a cranberry soap. Dimming the lights, lighting scented candles, and playing soft mood music, I soaked and thanked God for a wonderful day of solitude, life, and living.
Solitude was not only cathartic but a fun date.
"We live in a very tense society. We are pulled apart... and we all need to learn how to pull ourselves together.... I think that at least part of the answer lies in solitude." ~Helen Hayes
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