8 Miles of Zen

There is nothing super special about March 19, 2011, except that it is my boss' birthday (and she is quite special ~wink, wink~) and that it's a Saturday. The temperature is about 34 degree outside. It's a typical cold spring morning with the promise of drizzling rain. I put on my running outfit with a bit of apprehension - I am supposed to run 8 miles today if I want to stay on my training schedule. The most I've run was 6 miles for a couple of times and I wouldn't say it was without effort. Plus we are leaving for San Francisco for Spring break, I still have quite a bit of packing to do. I walk to the new high school thinking how I can talk myself out of running 8 miles. By the time I come to the sidewalk outside of the school ground, the conclusion of my internal conversation is "just do it" and "let's see how it goes."
So I take off running. As usual the first mile is bit tough - although I've warmed up by walking here - my body is still adjusting to the pounding impact of running. With Foo Fighter's "Learn to Fly" playing in my ears, I decided that I'll learn to be patient and the flying can wait. With the mantra of "slow and steady win the race", I am amazed how quickly I've done one mile, two miles, and then three miles.


At the starting point of the 4th mile, my body speaks to me: "Take your jacket off."
Me: "Um, it’s 37 degree out here. We’ll be freezing to death."
Body: "Trust me, I will keep us warm."
Me: "All right."
I manage to take my jacket off and fasten my iPod around my arm. Tossing my bright red jacket on the yellow fire hydrant, I resume my running on the sidewalk. The feeling of lightness is so refreshing-just like the crisp, cold air. My legs seem to be lighter and my steps bouncier.
Me: “Hey, this is great!”
Body:”See, I told ya. I know we can do it.”
And the conversation continues...
Me: “Have you ever thought that Led Zeppelin’s songs can be good running songs?”
Body: “No, but I sure love this “Good Times, Bad Times.”
Me: “Do you think it’s sacrilegious to say that the Zeppelin is basically a blues band playing with electric guitar?”
Body: “Probably so to some; but I think you’re absolutely right.”
Me: “You know, I think I can  do 8 miles today.”
Body: “Yes, yes, we can and we will.”


At that instant, I realized something that I’ve never thought that it could be true, but here it is: I am enjoying running. It’s an eureka and a zen moment – I am all right with the pavement that I step on; I am in sync with the wind breezing past me; my heart is beating contentedly and steadily; my breathing is smooth and comfortable and the best of all, I am grinning. I look down and there it is-my shadow–the image of the body which has more wisdom than I. Except for the two pigtails swinging, my shadow is someone ageless; someone without past, no worries or any care in the world. My shadow is free of desires, longings and guilt – all it wants is to run, even if just running in circles.


This is the moment I understand perfectly what Paulo Coelho meant in his book “The Alchemist”: the soul of the world; the language of the world. And I finally realize what my personal legend is: To put myself out by trying things that are scary and intimidating even if the chance of failing is great, even if I shall be denied or rejected once or twice.  To be courageous and venturing out of my comfort zone even though I feel so inadequate; to be intelligent enough to know that sometimes I'll win some or learn some; to accept the past as it is without regrets and blames – and most of all, to be honest with myself.  What is a life that is worth living if I don’t ever try to know myself better? This is what I meant by being honest.

At one point during the run, I feel so close to the boy Santiago.  When he was sitting alone, conversing with the wind and the sun; letting go of his fear and listening to his heart and most of all, he stands behind his strong conviction about love.  He is able to save himself and, in essence, to be part of the nature.  Coelho’s fable is fascinating for, not only did I sense the religious understanding, there are also thoughts from ancient cultures of Arab and oddly enough, of Chinese.  The belief that man and nature can merge as one; the principles of the Alchemy "...everyone will search for his treasure, find it, and then want to be better than he was in his former life.  Lead will play its role until the world has no further need for lead; and then lead will have to turn itself into gold." and "That's what alchemists do,  they show that, when we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better, too."  And do not skip the last part, the bonus, the interview of Coelho at the end of the book!

It is in this state of mind, I ran 8 miles.

A Letter to Jill

Dear Jill:

Thank you so much for your encouraging and kind words. It’s always such a delight to hear from you. You are truly a beautiful person inside and out.
Forgive me for not being modest, but I do agree with you that I am “gifted” (not necessarily “wonderfully” as you so kindly put.) It is true that I do not have any talent: My singing has driven Mr. D to text “Help me! She is singing!” to his oldest child. I can barely play piano. Many a craft projects have been botched due to my inability to follow instructions. The last time I picked up a paint brush, my high school art teacher cautioned me that there is no laundry service on site. I do not possess any talent which would create or manifest through any kind of art form. I accept this destiny without any regrets or complaints because I do know that I have been given a gift.
This gift is quite simple and precious – I am able to truly enjoy and appreciate others’ creativity and talents. In the movie, Almost Famous, this girl said to the rock star something like this “A true fan is someone who loves the band and their music - so much that it hurts!” And it is the same way with me – I love written words (East of Eden or the Dream of Red Chamber, music (Mozart or Green Day, Beethoven or Led Zeppelin), paintings (van Gough or Horst Wolf (he is a local artist in Brookings.) Listening to Yo-Yo Ma play Rachmaninov’s Vocalise could tear me up; reading Leonard Cohen’s “Book of Longings” makes me smile a knowing smile; watching the actors on stage of “To Kill a Mocking Bird” gives me hope that, perhaps, the innocence lost is for the coming of positive changes. I marvel at the beauty and splendor the nature displays – everywhere, anytime. When I gaze upon the face of a two-year-old, I see how life continues in hope and fear, joy and sorrow. This is the gift that I’ve been given – to be humbled in front of others’ God given talents; to be amazed at the results of others bearing their souls; to be touched by one sentence, one note or one stroke of color.
I dearly love what Paulo Coelho said in an interview. He was asked what he wants to be his epitaph (on his tombstone) and he said “Paulo Coelho died while he was alive.”
"Why this epitaph? Everybody dies when he or she is alive." 
Paulo said, "No, this is not true. The same pattern repeating and over again, you are not alive anymore.  To die alive is to take risks.  To pay your price.  To do something that sometimes scares you but you should do because you may like or you may not like."
I so get it at what he is saying: to keep your passion about life is to live it – start running even if you haven’t run since 4^th grade; start writing even though you are not writing in your native tongue; sharing what you learned from great artists with your friends; admitting that your heart is bigger than you know; to love without reservations; to dance when the music is lovely and to cry without being embarrassed… This is what I’ve learned since turning 40 - to live is to be myself, genuinely and bravely – and I am still so new at this.
Before I close this letter, may I share with you the words of yet another brilliant mind?
“…When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain…” Kahlil Gibran's Prophet on Friendship
And this shall be my thanks to you, sweet Jill. Happy reading.

With love, MLH aka Deb