On Friday, instead of taking part in Black Friday shopping—which, sadly, happens here in England too — I went for one of my walks through Hampstead Heath.
I’ve become quite good at not getting too lost and managed to find my way to Kenwood House for a cup of tea. This is becoming a bit of a habit: an unguided stroll through the Heath in the general direction of that beautiful estate, followed by tea and a scone.
Fortunately, the weather was good. It was cloudy and chilly, but there was no rain. It was a perfect day to be outside enjoying nature rather than getting pushed around by over-eager shoppers on Oxford Street.
A Muddy Walk Through Hampstead Heath
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 make the ground somewhat moist, to say the least. As I was making my way back from Kenwood House, I found that I had taken a path that turned out to be quite muddy. I had anticipated mud so I wore my old running shoes.
Of course, just before I reached a paved path, I had to cross a patch of mud about a metre wide — roughly three feet. Forgive me, I am still adapting. 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 replying with a snotty and sarcastic, “Gee, thanks,” I looked down at my seriously muddy shoes. The wet mud was already beginning to seep through the mesh on top.
“No worries. I wash,” I said, and we went our separate ways.
Finding Perspective in the Mud
It was one of those moments I’ve been experiencing more often since moving here. Perspective takes over, and something like muddy shoes and increasingly wet socks doesn’t matter as much as it might have a year ago.
Now, things like this are simply a cause for amusement. After all, I am having a terrific and peaceful afternoon in nature. Getting a little dirty is to be expected—and perhaps even part of the fun.
The day before this little adventure was Thanksgiving in the United States. It is far from my favourite holiday, so missing it was not a tragedy.
The holiday confuses me, even after setting aside the myths we were taught in elementary school about Pilgrims and Native Americans coming together and helping one another. It seems strange that we need a holiday to remind us to be thankful for the good things in our lives. Surely that should be an everyday occurrence.
Learning to Appreciate the Present
I’m guilty of overlooking the good things in my life. My tendency is to lean towards pessimism and almost always see the negative in a situation before allowing the positive side to shine through.
I do this often when I think about whether I will be able to stay in London after university. I focus on the fact that I am not finding a job as quickly as I had hoped. Then comes the dread that I might have to return to the US and to a life I now realise was deeply unhappy and unfulfilling, with a couple of meaningful exceptions.
It is during these walks through the Heath or the city — or even while riding the Tube — that I have to check myself.
“You need to focus on the fact that you are here now,” I tell myself. “You are happy now. Enjoy it. Things will work out, because this negativity is preventing you from appreciating what is happening at this moment.”
Basically, I’m teaching myself to be thankful for what is right in front of me and not to let everything else pull me down. It is a daily struggle, but I see progress in the strangest places.
I’m learning that it isn’t about the messy, muddy shoes. It is about the joyous and peaceful journey those shoes had to take to get that way in the first place.
