Seven Miles in Annapolis

Today I got back on the road for what I believe is a round of credible training for the N2N-TCP.  I've certainly done more in the past...a lot more....but based on recent history, this was a good solid walk in one stretch, and it feels good to get back out on the road.

Walking has become the place where I can be myself.  The world comes at me more slowly. I seem to have choices in how to react. It's the one place where I feel like I can be myself on my terms. I don't get that in my home. In fact, I'm pretty sure my marriage is over except for the legalities. I've certainly played a role in getting that piece of my life where it is right now, but the lack of understanding and forgiveness on both my part and my spouse's part is the principle reason things are coming apart at the seams.  After a very unpleasant encounter where my contribution to the family was downplayed and questioned (once again) it was good to get out on the road and see that the world still spins.  All is not chaos. Things are actually pretty damn good if you just slow down a minute and notice.

Annapolis Harbor Skyscape

The sky was spectacular. You don't get this kind of all encompassing beauty on television. Not even close. What you get is your head passively crammed full of fantasy that, if you're really not careful, you'll begin to believe are representations of real life. What a bunch of horseshit. Real life happens out under skies like this one, and it's difficult to be lured into a sense of expectation based on unreality if you get out and put yourself under the hot sun of reality every day. Dialing back the television to almost nothing is one of the best things I've done for myself in a number of years.

Blue Crabs - Annapolis

Dealing with real life in Annapolis can take you from watching someone catch their own food in the form of Chesapeake Bay Blue Crabs to the other end of the societal spectrum.

Art Deco "Graffiti" Wall at the Westin Annapolis Hotel 

The more cultured aspects of Annapolis include the Westin Hotel with it's very own art deco graffiti wall. Though a bit more contrived than the catching of dinner...let's face it, if you're commissioning someone to paint a graffiti wall, it's probably not really a graffiti wall...there is a reality on the lawn here that just can't be captured on television. The salty taste of sweat from my upper lip, the heat of the sun on my shoulders, the dampness from sweat between my backpack and my back, and the knowledge that if I went home by the most direct route from here I'd still have about two miles (and 32 minutes) to cover the distance.

It's good to get back on the trail. I feel suddenly more alive than I have in the last couple of weeks. I don't know what tomorrow will hold, but with any manner of luck, it will be more reality and less horseshit.