Lake Walks
In the depths of the most painful parts of my recovery I would think about the thing that makes me the most happy. This next part will sound dark and hopeless but it’s the only way I can honestly describe it. During some of the most painful parts of recovery it truly felt like it was never going to end or the pain was never going to change or subside. It truly felt like a fight to stay present and keep having the willpower to heal. The mind is truly a powerful muscle.
In these moments of exhaust I would dream about lake walks. When I feel at my most calm, my system feels the most regulate, and I feel the most present, it’s at the lake.
When we moved into our house we thought lake access would be nice to have but wasn’t as prioritized as much as some other features. After settling into our neighborhood, we’ve realized what a privilege it is to live two(ish) blocks from such an amazing gift the city has to offer.
We made it to the lake! There’s snow on the ground in this photo - was it from last week or last month? It’s Minnesota so who knows.
Lake Harriet Tubman
While I was trying to get through moment by moment I would think about our walks and how they would vary in each season. If you’re familiar with the area, we live near Lake Harriet (Tubman, as we call it aka Raine Moses’ namesake) and enter the lake with The Peace Garden on the right and The Rose Garden on the left with a bird sanctuary tucked behind, just off the beaten path. If you’re not familiar with this area, this walk is as peaceful as it sounds, surrounded by a lot of natural beauty.
I’ve attempted this walk by myself a few times since brain surgery. One of my favorite ‘over lunch’ activities pre-brain surgery was a power walk to the Bandshell and back. I had it down to a science and could easily do this walk in 45 minutes, door to door. I did this walk last week and it took me 90 minutes. After I got home from the walk, I needed lots of water and had to immediately have time for brain rest - laying down, in a dark room, in absolute quiet for an hour.
Hans and Raine at the Lake Harriet Tubman Bandshell.
The reminder to rest is ever present and ever changing. I need to keep reminding myself that on day three of this experience, I could barely take ten steps without assistance. I’ve made a lot of progress AND I still have a lot of healing to do.
Setting My Own Pace
I recently I took Raine on a lake walk. We took our time, slowly walking, talking to every single duck we saw, counting the number of squirrels that crossed the path, and greeting every single puppy we encountered. This pace felt a little better. More regulated. More manageable.
I’ll admit, the achiever in me is feeling like this pace isn’t productive. But the rester in me is feeling like this is the pace I could’ve been going at all along and felt more in tune with what it means to heal and REST.
It’s the ultimate reminder to: Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.
Thank you for your continued support and love!
XO,
R