Living with the sun (III)

I wasn’t up for my morning jog today. I told my inner child that she didn’t have to run the whole time. But she did. So I congratulated her.

A part of self healing is allowing your inner child to grow with you. Writing every morning has lead me to this conclusion: I’m still so childish, in so many ways. Whether it’s my penetrating stubbornness or my inability to forgive…some parts of me just never grew up. Instead of fighting with my inner child, I’ve learned how to nurture her instead of scolding her. That’s how we learn, you know? (With love)

The sun was shining. Some of the same people were out. One smiled at me. It was warm.

It was garbage day. Something I’ve noticed is people rummaging through other people’s trash. I see it everyday. It mainly consists of old people. I sometimes worry because I do live near a retirement home.

I ran under a row of pigeons and was seconds away from feeling a dropping on my head. Pigeons are strong birds, they can handle the streets. They do not feel threatened by human population. In fact, they’ve lead me to avoid the street they all hang out in.

There’s a large population of men with dogs here, as well as another population of men being dogs. At least once a day I am harassed. It sucks, but I’m more focused on the fact that I’m able to run. That’s all I have in those moments…and it’s a lot… because I do it everyday.

There is a Greek food truck that always has a long line. During my run a sillage of gyro goodness keeps me company.

A funny conversation I heard between a father and his 4 year old son:

Dad: so… I bought the chocolates…but we have to hide them or else your mom will freak out. *tucks bag of chocolate in pockets*

Son: ok

Mom: *walks up to husband and son*

I couldn’t help but giggle. This is a funny little community. The more I notice, the more I wonder about this human experience. I enjoy taking note of it’s silly traits…like the notes people leave on concrete lampposts, the face each person makes when they walk, the little boy who looked me straight in the eyes as he popped a wheelie on his scooter. I notice and I note…this will all be all gone one day… like the many civilizations and eras I’ve read about…why not note the simple beauties I see everyday?

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