Positive Affirmation: I am more fit than I have ever been.
Three Action Steps:
1. Run 1 mile today.
2. Plan a hike for this month.
3. Find a second run to participate in.
I believe that if we are to reach our goals, we have to work on them everyday. We have to learn how to love ourselves completely. So, for the next 21 days, I am going to practice not only thinking positively but giving myself positive affirmations. Do this with me. We can start a whole new habit together.
I read a quote today that really hit home with me.
"When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be." -- Lao Tzu
Sometimes, it's hard to let go of what is comfortable and known even if it is no longer serving us. I know who I want to be, and I refuse to be stuck in what I am. So, I am continuing to work on my writing. Here's the latest installment of New Worlds. Tell me what you think. You can leave comments below.
New Worlds Chapter 3
That first night, I couldn't sleep at all. The quietness of the house seemed to envelop the entire street. No cars rattled past on First Street. No dogs barked. No babies cried. And, no one yelled at anyone else. Besides, Vicky kicked and the flower design afghan on the bed scratched my chin. It seemed only minutes had passed since I had laid my head down when I awoke to Uncle Bob's whistling. I padded across the hard wood floors to the kitchen where Uncle Bob set a plate of fried eggs and sizzling bacon in front of me. I'm sure I all but grunted as I wolfed down breakfast. When I finally took a breath and looked up from my plate, I saw Aunt Tootie standing in the doorway smiling. She was wearing old faded jeans, one of Uncle Bob's plaid work shirts, and enough gold and diamonds to make a weaker peson collapse under their weight. Her long gray hair looked like a porcupine had climbed aboard her head and made itself at home.
"Marie, would you like to help me do my hair this morning?" she asked.
I just stared: I didn't know how to answer. So, she put the silver plated brush in my hand and sat down on the kitchen floor in front of me. As I stroked the silken strands, Aunt Tootie talked about nothing. "Just wrap it into a bun. I've always hated this mess of hair - so thin and straight. What I wouldn't give for your thick, red curls. When I was younger, I always got permanents thinking that I could have the kind of hair you have, but they always turned out horrible - like a Brillo pad gone bad. So, I decided that I would just let my hair gorw down to my ass, wrap it up on top of my head, and anyone who doesn't like it, doesn't have to look at it."
I could not imagine anyone as beautiful as Aunt Tootie being envious of me. What was she thinking? When I finished up with a few strategically placed bobby pins, she asked, "So, what are your plans for today?"
"I don't know," I answered.
"Well, why don't you take Vicky for a walk around town and stop in at the Creamery later. Uncle Bob will fix you a nice lunch and maybe even a vanilla milkshake. How does that sound?"
"OK," I said.
Then she gulped down a cup of luke warm coffee and headed off for her three-day a week job at the Hershey Chocolate factory.
As I headed out later that morning wearing my only sneakers complete with a large hole in the toe, I felt like Vicky and I were Lewis and Clark setting out to explore a vast new territory. I was Lewis, of course, serious about finding out every nuance of the little town nestled against the golden foothills of Gold Rush Country. Vicky, on the other hand, was Clark skipping along with her pigtails bobbing and urging me on toward the treasures of F Street.
On that first day, Oakdale was a fairy tale village. It was a place where people actually called making candy in the Hershey Chocolate factory work. It was a place where everyone knew everyone else. Where children could walk to the Creamery at the end of Albers Street without being afraid of getting caught ditching chores. A place where every store window was a gift waiting to be unwrapped by the eyes of passerbys.
On our way to downtown, we walked past the cracker box shaped police station where two old men sat on a wooden bench at the edge of the sidewalk. The man with the denim overalls and gnarled fingers was missing his front teeth but he smiled anyway and said, "Good mornin' Miss Vicky. And you, young lady, must be Ol' Chief Bob's little niece come for the summer?"
"Yes, sir," I replied and continued on my way into town.
As we walked along F Street, we peered into the store windows. F Street was a gingerbread city made of continuous red brick walls laced with white frosting mortar broken in pieces at the corners of Albers Street and Third Street. We left fingerprints on the window of Irene's Ladies' Fashions where Vicky pointed out a red fuzzy sweater that looked as soft as the feathers of a baby bird. We left nose smudges on the window of the Oakdale Antique Collectibles where we tried to decide if we would rather have the rusty metal bicycle the color of a lucky penny or the china doll with the cracked skin. But, my favorite store of all was the little bookshop in the middle of the second block of F Street. Its green and white striped awning shaded a sparkling glass with the words Mary's Book World painted in red letters across the top. The hodgepodge of books in the display case seemed to be in total disarray. In the left-hand corner, there were stacks of old books with loose worm eaten pages and frayed bindings. In the center, there were children's books in primary colors standing on end in line like soldiers waiting to march in a parade and paper back novels with titles like The Passion of Renee and Barbarian Princess. In the far right hand corner, were two boxes and a crate filled to the top with used books. The woman inside the book shop, who I assumed to be Mary, waved us in through the front door where she handed Vicky and I each a lemon drop. Before we left, we promised to come back and visit.
By lunchtime, we were ready for one of Uncle Bob's famous lunches down at The Creamery. We sat on red vinyl stools at the counter while Uncle Bob handed us plates with steaming grilled cheese sandwiches and ice cold bread and butter pickles. The vanilla shake was the best I had ever tasted.
We told Uncle Bob all about our explorations, and he laughed at our description of Mr. Griggs, the old man on the bench.
"Well, you two should sleep good tonight with all of the running around you've done today."