If you stop to be kind you must swerve often from your path.
I have stopped watching the nightly news. Which is totally unlike me. Usually wanting to know…What Is Going On. The importance of being informed and up-to-date was always at the top of my list. Part of being a responsible citizen.
It seems to me there used to be more balance. The good and the evil. The positive and the negative. Now all I do is wince. Our leaders fighting. Shouting. Accusing. Deaf to the voices of reason…or fairness…or empathy. Especially empathy. Unwilling to even pause and consider a different path.
Nightly Breaking News punches story after story. Announcements line up in 10 second sound bites. Assault…Abuse…Cheating…Lying…. Young child missing…young child found in a shallow grave. Inconsolable parent. Another shooting. Blurry security camera video. One more senseless loss of a sister, a brother.
The news anchor drones on, his face barely changing expression. Night after night.
Rarely would I see kindness…until the final 2 minutes of the broadcast. Showcasing an act of generosity. Compassion. Selflessness.
Good to know there are people still out there…
On a different path.
Running a marathon.
It’s a long road…
26.2 grueling miles to be exact.
Single minded determination, resilience…and hours of training.
My personal experience?
Limited to one as an enthusiastic observer…
Whooping and hollering…Yay!! Woo Hoo!!…from the sidelines.
Along with crowds of cheering fans, I watched as runners pounded the pavement. All ages, shapes and sizes. Clutching water bottles. Sucking on energy gels. Sweaty. Eyes focused.
Squeezed into a space along the marathon route, I waited…for my daughter (Boston Marathon 2008)…or my son (Rock & Roll DC Marathon 2014)…at different spots along the way. Yayyyyy! Woo Hoo!! Before hurrying to the finish line….
All those runners seeking a personal best.
For themselves. For charity.
A long road.
An amazing achievement.
My grandfather Opa left behind a large box of photographic slides. Hundreds of them encased in shiny metal slide mounts. Fitted into 1940’s and 1950’s era slide magazine cases. For viewing in a slide projector.
I inherited this box of treasured memories of the many travels he and my Oma embarked on…before advancing age and illness ended their adventures.
After unearthing the box in our basement during the let’s-get-ready-to-downsize years, I removed all the slides from the magazines…and mounts. Viewed them on a lighted slide sorter. And kept a sampling of my favorites (eventually inspiring one of my first blog posts…slides!)