On Friday, instead of participating in Black Friday shopping (which, sadly, happens here in England as well), I went for one of my walks in Hampstead Heath. I’ve gotten quite good at not getting too lost and managed to get myself to Kenwood House for a cup of tea. This is becoming a bit of a habit. A unguided stroll through the Heath in the general direction of this beautiful estate for tea and a scone. Fortunately the weather was good–cloudy and chilly but no rain. It was a perfect day for being outside, enjoying nature, instead of being in the shops on Oxford Street getting pushed around by over-eager shoppers.
It has been pretty rainy lately. This is not a complaint. I love the rain. It’s a welcome change from where I’ve lived most of my life. However, several rainy days makes the ground somewhat moist, to say the least. As I was making my way back from Kenwood House found that I had let myself take a path that turned out to be a quite muddy. I had anticipated mud so I wore my old running shoes. Of course, right before I got to a path that was paved I was forced to cross through a patch of mud about a meter wide (about 3 feet??….forgive me, I’m trying to adapt). As I gingerly made my way across this stretch of goo and felt it start to engulf my trainers (adapting!), a man was passing on the path I was aiming for. He stopped and watched me negotiate the mess while trying not to slip and fall. When I was safely across I smiled and nodded hello to him to which he said, “You should have come through over there.” and gestured to my right where there another path.
This comment amused me for a couple of reasons. The first being that I had totally missed the somewhat drier path because I was concentrating so hard on finding ways around the mud on my chosen path. The second reason was because this friendly gentleman felt the need to point it out after the fact. Instead of coming back with a snotty and sarcastic, “Gee, thanks.” I just looked down at my seriously muddy shoes and felt the wet mud starting to seep through the mesh on the tops of the shoes and said, “No worries, I wash” and we went our separate ways.
It was one of those moments I’ve been having more and more often since moving here. Perspective takes over and something like muddy shoes and increasingly wet socks doesn’t matter as much as they might have a year or more ago. Now things like this were really just cause for amusement. After all, I was having a terrific and peaceful afternoon out in nature, so getting a little dirty was to be expected and maybe even part of the fun.
The day before this little adventure had been Thanksgiving in the United States. It’s far from my favourite holiday so missing it was not a tragedy. The holiday confuses me and that’s even after putting aside the myths they taught us in elementary school about Pilgrims and Native Americans coming together and helping each other out. It seems so odd to me that we need a holiday to remind us that we should be thankful for the good things in our lives. That seems like something that should be an every day occurrence.
I’m guilty of overlooking the good stuff in my life. Leaning towards a more pessimistic outlook, I’ll almost always see the negative in a situation before I allow for the positive side to shine through. I find myself doing it a lot when it comes to me being able to stay in London past my time at university. I focus quite a bit on the fact that I’m not finding a job as quickly as I would have hoped and the dread of maybe having to move back to the U.S. and going back to a life that I now realise was truly unhappy and unfulfilling (with a couple meaningful exceptions). It’s on these walks through the Heath or in the city or even riding on the Tube that I have to check myself and say, “You need to focus on the fact that you are here NOW. You are happy NOW. Enjoy it and things will work out because this negativity is holding you back from what is going on right at this moment.”
Basically I’m teaching myself to be thankful for the things that are right in front of me at the present and not letting the rest pull me down. It’s a daily struggle but I see progress in the weirdest places. I’m learning it’s not about the messy and muddy shoes, it’s about joyous and peaceful journey those shoes had to take to get that way in the first place.
P.S. I did break down and buy a pair of Wellington-type boots for my next walk in Heath. Again, I’m adapting!
On My Mind 