Another weekend. Another week. Another day. Somehow time just drifts by and I forget the lessons too easily.
I did the swim-run combo on Saturday. It felt great, like I could have run forever. Like I could have run to the ends of the earth and find my place there. And if there was such a place, perhaps I would finally find the peace I’ve been searching for.
I must remember to simply savour the moment. Learn to put all worries into the black worry box, lock it, turn away from it and start running. One of my favourite authors once described this little box as a wooden one which you would throw into a well. The problem with this is that in time, that box will rot and the darkness from inside it will leak out and poison the well. The well here being the metaphorical human psyche, and the poisoning of it is the resulting insanity. For some reason that illustration has always stayed in my mind.
It’s easy to see moments of the resulting poisoning. The betrayal of the mind. The internal corruption of both the body and the soul.
I punish my body almost everyday. In my running, in my pushing myself that much further, that much faster. The mind ignores the flashes of pain because it is demented, it cares for nothing because it is intoxicated by the poison. This is how it breaks down the body and mind connection.
V tells me that my body is not a machine. That people are not like machines. We all have feelings, and we cannot simply turn them off. We might have learnt to cope with difficult matters by shutting them off, but like that poisoned well, the mind will only rebel.
I must remember the lessons I have learnt along the way.
I did the swim-run combo on Saturday. It felt great, like I could have run forever. Like I could have run to the ends of the earth and find my place there. And if there was such a place, perhaps I would finally find the peace I’ve been searching for.
I must remember to simply savour the moment. Learn to put all worries into the black worry box, lock it, turn away from it and start running. One of my favourite authors once described this little box as a wooden one which you would throw into a well. The problem with this is that in time, that box will rot and the darkness from inside it will leak out and poison the well. The well here being the metaphorical human psyche, and the poisoning of it is the resulting insanity. For some reason that illustration has always stayed in my mind.
It’s easy to see moments of the resulting poisoning. The betrayal of the mind. The internal corruption of both the body and the soul.
I punish my body almost everyday. In my running, in my pushing myself that much further, that much faster. The mind ignores the flashes of pain because it is demented, it cares for nothing because it is intoxicated by the poison. This is how it breaks down the body and mind connection.
V tells me that my body is not a machine. That people are not like machines. We all have feelings, and we cannot simply turn them off. We might have learnt to cope with difficult matters by shutting them off, but like that poisoned well, the mind will only rebel.
I must remember the lessons I have learnt along the way.