Calm again

At least the weather calmed down today, even as the world seemed ever more crazy, more dispiriting - pandemic, fear, terrorism, the lunatic in the White House whipping up his devotees. I wasn't sure, this morning, how I felt about going to Pilates in the studio, but felt the need of the physical workout and the mental relief from a shared giggle with a friend who's mat was beside mine, a good three metres away. But the class was quiet, silent for most of the lesson - was it the calming music? Or were we all trying not to breathe?

Over coffee I stupidly allowed myself to become involved in a social media discussion between clergy and one or two lay people about what churches should be doing if once again they have to close (they will be from this week in England, but not in Scotland as yet). I hated the suggestions - play-acting at home with bread and ...water? ... but even more I hated the implication that this was going to be for ever. All the time I had this tune at the back of my head - the tune of an evangelical hymn that I couldn't really recall, though I felt sure I'd sung it in the past. Eventually I shut down Facebook, found the hymn on YouTube, and sang along, loudly. It worked, and I felt better. Pilates for the soul?

I completed the cure with a vigorous walk at the south of the peninsula, which is where this photo comes from. This is Killellan Farm, one of three (I think) farms along the road, and I always think it looks completely different from the landscape to the immediate north of us. The sun was just reappearing from behind a bank of cloud over Bute, lighting up the hillside with its patchwork of trees and the paler hills on the far side of Loch Striven. There was hardly a sound - even the birds were silent, other than a disgruntled-sounding crow. The tune from the morning was on a loop in my brain and I marched along thinking of ... nothing.

I find from my FitBit that I've walked over 8 kilometers today, interesting mainly because my #2 son referred to our walking habits in his company's latest newsletter, The Provocation. His serious point, aimed at team leaders in schools, in businesses, was this:... while you may well feel the realisation that our way of living is not a sprint, but a very long marathon, don't try to take it all on at once. Think in sprints nonetheless, and encourage your team to walk a little, often. I thought that good advice even for people like me and some of you that I feel I know through Blip, in this very odd time we're living through. But the lead-in was something he'd heard elsewhere, a joke, and I loved it: 

"My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was sixty. She's ninety-seven now, and we don't know where the hell she is."