Silence, Snowflakes, Sneakers, and A Few Miles

Happy New Year!

 I have been wanting to get back to this for a while and I always feel like the first post after a hiatus is the most rough or “bumpy.”

 

One of the things I love the most about dark early morning runs is the silence – the way I can become so present within myself.  In the winter the silence seems more profound.  The hum of the world seems at rest as I make my way through the streets.  The best part of this is I can hear and connect with the silent whispers from my soul that are drowned out by the noise of life. 

 

I ran the other morning as the storm started.  I literally felt like the world was mine.  It was severely cold so I started out imagining I would cut my run short.  As I got going and the snowflakes kissed my face, the silence somehow felt like a comfortable connection to something so much more. I did not want to let this sense of peace go too soon so I found myself just turning down one more road, then one more until I could feel and see through the snow, icicles freezing on my eyelashes making it hard to blink.  I turned back and began running back over the path I had just made, but my footprints had already been covered by the snow as if I was never there.  Feeling incredibly present with myself it seemed odd to not see remnants of where I had come from, like the past was no longer any indication of where I was going.

 

Recently I went through a very challenging experience that I had not anticipated.  I tried to endure and use all my coping strategies that have gotten me over so many other mountains Eventually, it became so toxic to me, I actually feared for my physical health.  I was literally deteriorating.  I could not sleep, and could barely eat, I was in a constant state of panic resulting in headaches, vertigo and an increased resting heartache.  I knew the environment was toxic for me but I could not just leave. I also knew, although it was not a fit for me, it was simply that - not a fit for me but not a reflection on those of who it is a fit for. I had responsibilities to my family.  And then I’d resent how all this responsibility has been my load to carry alone for so long and I could not find a way out.  Anyone who knows me, knows I always have a plan.  Even if I don’t have a plan, I have a plan for that.  It has been a necessary part of my life in single parenting and raising 4 men alone. 

 

After a week of near constant chest pain and pain shooting down my left arm, I finally decided I had to just leave despite what everyone told me- to just hang in and that I couldn’t make a rash decision. I didn’t have a plan but I felt like my body was yelling at me and I needed to listen to that more than all the well intentioned advice givers.  I did not belong in the environment I was subjecting myself to daily. I set the notice up and saved it not ready to pull the trigger on it without any plan.  I kept hearing that logical responsible voice telling me about all the things that would go wrong if I left and all the questions of failure and impossibilities were yelling at me but just beyond that, a whisper “yes, but what if you fly?”  As I made my way through that final day, not sure what to do, I began entertaining that whisper letting it get a little louder in my mind and by the end of the day with no net, I jumped with only a prayer in my heart that the crash wouldn’t hurt too much, putting my faith in myself for maybe the first time in my life.  Only three days later an unsolicited opportunity came to me and just like that, there was a safe place to land. My chest pains stopped the moment I left that day, I am sleeping again and finally feel like my real self again.

 

I began to realize that whisper was probably there the entire time but I hadn’t been listening. For most of my life, I have listened to the loud telling me to do the logical things – to do what I “should”.  Something about listening to that whisper, seemed to open something in me, like somehow, I could trust myself more.  I felt happy, the moment I hit send turned to joy and the fear was absent.  It was the craziest thing I had allowed myself to do in a very long time.  I took a couple more punches before the week closed out but somehow, they didn’t hit as hard.  I had changed, I became something I didn’t plan on and was somehow stronger and more peaceful.  So those last couple hits really just solidified that forward is the only direction I am moving and the past was vanishing behind me just like my foot prints in the snow storm.

 

I read recently that this past year was the year of the Snake, and the year of the Fire Horse does not officially begin until February 16th or 17th.  As my sister said, “2026 has been a little bumpy so far.”  Maybe we can use these first few bumpy weeks of 2026 to shed the snake skins from what no longer serves us.  I thought of this as I ran through the early snow blowing against me and pushing me forward, shaking loose my own snake skins and all that needs to be shed.  Leaving it behind to freeze and be buried beneath the snow which will eventually melt away and be gone forever.  As I released more and more, I felt stronger and lighter with each step.  I found the silence today, especially through the park adjacent to the highway, which was closed due to the storm, to be whispering a thousand words. 

 

As I returned home, I wiped the icicles from my eyes, grateful to once again find my soul and strength with nothing more than some silence, snowflakes, sneakers, and a few miles.