I was on the treadmill looking into the distance at low gray clouds. They looked like mountains. So I moved myself from Detroit to Denver and was on a treadmill there, looking out at the Flatirons. Treadmills are really boring, your feet move but you don’t go anywhere, so your brain (mine anyway) takes off at a trot.
So I’m thinking about what things look like and what they really are.
Yes, I am overweight. 35 minutes on a treadmill won’t change that.
Yes, Christmas is coming and it’s a pain. Why does it keep coming around so fast? Wasn’t it just August?
I need to settle down and work on my next novel. Can’t concentrate. Is dementia setting in?
Ahh…see these are my clouds pretending to be mountains.
Exercise is good, even if I don’t get skinny. Most of my Christmas shopping is done. And when I actually sit in front of the laptop, I know that the next book will eventually get done, and it will be GOOD.
I have only clouds.
But some of my people have Mountains.
In the past two and a half weeks, there have been a shocking number of deaths. Meighen’s husband Bill died. Marilyn’s husband Don died. My sister-in-law Leslie’s mother died. My daughter’s neighbor died, and so did Tim, my ex-sister-in-law’s ex-husband. An acquaintance was visiting her family out West and died there. George H.W. Bush died.
My daughter-in-law, Bonnie, had shoulder surgery that will take months to heal completely. My sister-in-law, Katie, is also about to have surgery. My brother and his wife split up. A friend’s cancer is back. Another friend is waiting biopsy results for skin cancer.
Too many hard things. Really hard. Rocks. Mountains.
What do you do when faced with a mountain? Climb it?
Are you afraid of heights?
Face it? Just stare it down?
And when (if ever) will it become a cloud, low hanging, a mist that dissipates when the sun fills the sky.
To all my people going through hard times, I wish you strength, and send my love and wishes for healing.
And someday I hope your mountains will be just clouds.