Yesterday I started the second part of my idling journey. Together with Ester with whom I am going to walk this weekend. I was going to write; who will walk this weekend with me. But I like doing things together. Ester doesn’t posess my walking ambition and also has some ailments today. It makes the going slow. I adjust. She also brings a heavy tent and rucksack. I have foreseen that so I made some logistical decisions to make this as easy as possible. We put up our tents and I leave my car at our starting point. You still have to walk the 20 k to the camping site and that proves to be too far for her. A taxi brings relief.
I can put all that into perspective. We are not in a hurry. If it were me by myself I would have done it differently but now our slow moving brings us under a bridge minutes before a thunderstorm hits us. At my pace we would have gotten soaking wet, probably. There are stretches of beautiful paths that we now can admire properly. Thousands of little frogs jumping across the path that I would have otherwise missed half of. Looking at it that way, our slow moving seems more of a blessing, though my back and legs are playing up at this slow moving. My body experiences this as loitering.
Is this acceptance or adjustment? It feels like adjustment to me. Painting the grass greener, I call it. I recognize it in my family dynamics, the laughing off of things that can’t be helped. Ignore and adjust. Acceptation is a more dynamic posture. One that occasionally asks for a thunderstorm, showing some anger and disappointment, which you can research to find out what it takes to move ahead. And then not to hide under a bridge.
I still have a lot of idling to learn.