Control

Some days are just crap. People are mean, they say hurtful things, work’s overwhelming, personal life’s overwhelming, sometimes, and it is just too much. But how much control do we have over stopping the spiral or even preventing it from starting? Can we put the troubles of the day (or past month…as the case may be) on hold, just simply press pause, and decide to create a wonderful day?

To say the past month has been a challenge would be an understatement. Back to back weeks of overtime, finding out Grandpa has advanced cancer, Gran going into hospital, Laura undergoing yet another treatment in the hopes that one of these days something will work, pulling back/neck muscles, not being able to play tennis/do yoga/load my bike onto my car, postponing the trip to Kilimanjaro…I’ve felt a little drained.

So I said enough. Enough of feeling the weight on my shoulders, what I need are bubbles...lots and lots of bubbles, and let’s throw in some weightlessness for good measure. So on Sunday I woke up, got out of bed, drug a comb across my head, bum, bum (man I’m easily side tracked these days).

Anyway…I woke up with the sun, put on my new running shoes, and went for a long jog around the lake. There’s something extra special about Sunday morning jogs around Lady Bird Lake. It’s so quiet, and the only other folks out and about are other long distance runners who respectfully acknowledge each other in passing, always with a smile and often a friendly “good morning”. During the workweek you always see folks who seem to be there to show off for each other like some bower bird mating ritual but on Sunday it’s just those of us who run for ourselves. I ended my eight miles (which I would have been happy to stretch even further) by bounding up the stairs to Congress Ave two at a time, just me, my breath, and swinging arms to give me that added umph.

After a bit of post-running r&r I pulled out my camping propane stove to roast red peppers in my apartment. Camping stoves are cool regardless of the situation, but try balancing three red peppers on one in an apartment in the middle of the city and challenge yourself not to smile. That’s got to be damn near impossible. Soon my place smelled like a real kitchen and I spent an hour or so coaxing a few ingredients into becoming a creamy roasted red pepper risotto. It was my first time to attempt risotto, so I was pretty careful about sticking close to the recipe but couldn’t resist throwing in some sherry to round it out and to transport myself to Gran’s kitchen in Childswickham where a touch more brandy, wine, or sherry seems to enhance every dish.

Not having anyone to answer to and my appointment with bubbles hours away I lazed around napping and chatted on the phone with Angela.

Bubbles time! Yup, I’d made myself an appointment for a scuba refresher course. I fully believe in scent being the most powerful link to memory because as soon as I walked in the dive shop I felt like I was in 5th grade again running around Diver’s Depot after school, picking out anklets, eating junk food by the pool, swimming, talking about boys... I made it through dive tables and such without much problem, and then got to get back in the water. It’s been about 10 years since I’ve been diving. When did time start moving so quickly and how could I have lost so much time that I could have been underwater? I knew the course was a great use of time, when the instructor needed to grab some stuff and told me just to hang out and blow bubbles, how great of an assignment is that?! We whizzed through clearing mask, retrieving regulator, removing bcd & weight belt, buddy breathing, emergency ascent, and it all came back so easily. Finally when we’d finished running the drills he said I could go, but I didn’t think I should be penalized for being a good student so I asked if I could just play around in the pool until my time was up. I got to spend the rest of the time throwing an underwater football, blowing bubble rings, and my personal favorite just floating upside down to get a different perspective on the world. I left the dive shop with an oh-so-sexy mask mark on my forehead, blood shot eyes (man they’d gone overboard on the chlorine), chemically overloaded hair, and a huge relaxed grin.

Then it was off to lay out on a pic-nic blanket in Zilker Park with friends and let my self get lulled into the rhythm of Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing. A friend summed it up, “Sunday night is a reason why Austin is such an incredible place to live… a warm night, Shakespeare, plus great food & company!” There really is something fulfilling about sharing things you love with other people. I’m a pretty independent person and would have been content enjoying the weather, play, and risotto by myself…but to be able to share it with others who might have otherwise just taken care of grown-up errands or watched tv on their Sunday night is indescribable. Sharing food and laughter has got to be one of the keys to happiness.

See what happens when you take control? And, who could ask for anything more?