companions
I woke up bored yesterday. I thought maybe Jovi and I should go to Yellow Springs for a hike. But I had lots of reading to get done, daily tasks to do.
I opened my email to my monthly newsletter from Mary DeMuth, with the subject line: "Crabby? Here are three ways to find your happy." One of the three ways was to go outside.
That settled it. No daily tasks for me!
Jovi and I were happy as soon as we parked the car at the Glen Helen Nature Preserve. Made even more happy by the dog-friendly town that allows Jovi to go inside establishments with me. (She enjoyed her first art museum, though found the bathrooms a little confining.)
I let Jovi take the lead once we were on the trails and before long we were crossing bridges, wading through the river, and pausing to smell every tree. I laughed when she came upon some graffiti reading "I lost", and helped her find the trail again.
Shortly thereafter we met a woman, about my age, who really was lost. We had just made an about face on the trail because a four-foot long black snake dared us to cross its path.
"Does the trail end here?" she asked.
"It does for us," I said. "We don't do snakes." At least I don't. Had Jovi recognized the snake for what it was we would probably still be at the hospital (for her, or me, or both).
Our new friend quickly followed us back up the path. "Anything but snakes," she agreed. Followed by, "I get turned around very easily here."
"Me too," I offered. "I've wandered around here for hours, so now I only come when I don't have anywhere to be for the day."
She decided to walk deeper into the woods with us. I imagine she figured being lost in the woods with a woman and her dog was superior to being lost in the woods alone with a snake.
Our conversation was easy. We had much in common--mostly our love for the outdoors. She too hikes with her family, goes 4-wheeling with her brothers, and loves to get away by herself in the afternoons before the kids get home from school.
While we were engrossed in conversation, not the least bit worried about where we were going or if we were lost, Jovi ended up leading us over the river and through the woods, all the way back to the parking lot where we were both parked.
I'm glad I was open to this woman joining us on our walk, that I didn't point her back in the opposite direction toward the trail head. I'm glad she was outgoing, which made it easier for me to be the same. I'm grateful that for the last half hour of our two hour hike, Jovi and I had a companion with us on the journey.
EMBRACE COMPANIONS.
Going outside is a great way to overcome crabby. And so is helping someone who is lost by inviting them to join you in your journey.
Reading How To Be Lost by Amanda Eyre Ward.
I opened my email to my monthly newsletter from Mary DeMuth, with the subject line: "Crabby? Here are three ways to find your happy." One of the three ways was to go outside.
That settled it. No daily tasks for me!
Jovi and I were happy as soon as we parked the car at the Glen Helen Nature Preserve. Made even more happy by the dog-friendly town that allows Jovi to go inside establishments with me. (She enjoyed her first art museum, though found the bathrooms a little confining.)
I let Jovi take the lead once we were on the trails and before long we were crossing bridges, wading through the river, and pausing to smell every tree. I laughed when she came upon some graffiti reading "I lost", and helped her find the trail again.
Shortly thereafter we met a woman, about my age, who really was lost. We had just made an about face on the trail because a four-foot long black snake dared us to cross its path.
"Does the trail end here?" she asked.
"It does for us," I said. "We don't do snakes." At least I don't. Had Jovi recognized the snake for what it was we would probably still be at the hospital (for her, or me, or both).
Our new friend quickly followed us back up the path. "Anything but snakes," she agreed. Followed by, "I get turned around very easily here."
"Me too," I offered. "I've wandered around here for hours, so now I only come when I don't have anywhere to be for the day."
She decided to walk deeper into the woods with us. I imagine she figured being lost in the woods with a woman and her dog was superior to being lost in the woods alone with a snake.
Our conversation was easy. We had much in common--mostly our love for the outdoors. She too hikes with her family, goes 4-wheeling with her brothers, and loves to get away by herself in the afternoons before the kids get home from school.
While we were engrossed in conversation, not the least bit worried about where we were going or if we were lost, Jovi ended up leading us over the river and through the woods, all the way back to the parking lot where we were both parked.
I'm glad I was open to this woman joining us on our walk, that I didn't point her back in the opposite direction toward the trail head. I'm glad she was outgoing, which made it easier for me to be the same. I'm grateful that for the last half hour of our two hour hike, Jovi and I had a companion with us on the journey.
EMBRACE COMPANIONS.
Going outside is a great way to overcome crabby. And so is helping someone who is lost by inviting them to join you in your journey.
Reading How To Be Lost by Amanda Eyre Ward.
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