This afternoon I fell hard into the familiar, warm haze of running on empty.
How do I balance an epic year of adventure, work, school, and sleep? More so, how do I balance all of these things I do “for me” with the need of people I care about? I don’t have some kind of magic answer, and it might take a few failures to get there, but I know a great place to start is a good night’s sleep. I’m taking a few courses right now, one of which is nutrition. We talk a lot about moderation, planning, and avoiding absolutes. I’m going to do my best to apply these concepts to give myself a healthy, invigorating life.
I am making a promise to myself that I will make commitments in moderation. Not so much that I am left a husk of exhausted flesh, and not so little that I give up on the things I hold dear. This comes into play with everything from the jobs I take, to the hikes I choose. Variety is not only “the spice of life”, it’s vital to preserving my sanity, and health. Every hike can’t be a summit, just like eventually, we all get tired of the same meal every night.
I will try my best to plan ahead, leaving time for adventure, silence and personal development. This level of preparation comes with one major caveat; I must be able to make modifications. This is where the rule of “no absolutes” comes into play. I have gotten stuck in the trap of plans before; the idea that because I made a decision, I was stuck with the results. I’m not sure when this happened, but as some point I realized that this was a completely absurd way of thinking. If the whole thing was my idea, why the heck would I not be able to change my mind?
It seems as though I’ve been gravitating to familiar places the past few weeks. Maybe this is because it doesn’t take a ton of brain power to drive somewhere I’ve been before. So this week, Bryce and I ventured to Spencer Island, a tiny, swampy nature preserve here in Everett.
Spring made herself known with warm air, a chilling breeze, and new growth in the form of sprouts and cherry blossoms. I don’t have much to say about the hike, not that it wasn’t lovely. In fact, it was truly refreshing, and Bryce and I enjoyed some classic conversation about how we are awkward and weird and wouldn’t change that for the world.
A pleasant trek through the flats of Snohomish Valley, I look forward to moving forward. On to more adventure, more knowledge, and greater bonds formed. Thanks for reading my sleepy, brain-fuzz-filled note today.