delara, interrupted

Running at the gym today - a well-needed workout for many, many reasons - was almost a transcendent experience. As I looked out the second story windows at the clouds in the sky, I was overcome by their beauty, poetry and grace. About an hour earlier, the sun finally poked through the thick cloud cover that had blanketed Chicago all morning - gloomy, to be sure. Matched my mood - well-orchestrated pathetic fallacy. Ha! But now that the sun was peeking out, the clouds put on a show. Layer upon layer, cirrus, cirrostratus and fluffy cumulus clouds were colored in gray, blue, brilliant white, and everything in between. Phenomenal.

And powerful. I felt strong gazing out the window, in my second mile, absorbed in the clouds above. I even entertained thoughts of my future - what it might be like, what vision I had. I felt strong, clear and positive about the path ahead. I could see life goals being realized. Like I said: powerful.

Then, I looked down at the treadmill display and realized I was less than halfway toward my goal distance. And I felt discouraged - just for a moment, but it was there. And it was palpable - energy-draining even.

After mustering a little encouraging self-talk in my head (“c’mon girl, keep going - you’re doing just fine, keep it up…”), I steadied my pace again and forged ahead. I looked up from the display and observed what was happening in the parking lot below. People milling about, parking their cars crooked, leaving shopping carts here and there, running with kids in tow. Seemed chaotic, frenetic. With a small sigh, I looked up a bit higher and noticed the buildings and rooftops - a semblance of order and structure. Up a little higher were the train tracks, and a train whizzed by just then - taking people where they want to go. Or need to go. Then up to the trees, the treetops, and back into the clouds. I breathed a sigh of relief once my gaze was high enough - I was once again in awe of the beauty of the sky, and things were clear.

And then it struck me - this vertical gradient of emotion and vision was both literal and metaphorical. How important it is for us to "keep our eyes on the prize" and hold our gaze high. The more we lower our eyes, away from the vision ahead, the less we see of the sun and clouds and the more we see of the minutiae of our everyday world - which is by nature a more limited world. Unlike the world of possibility, which is boundless, filled with potential and opportunity.

Lest I wax philosophic for too long, suffice it to say that I was reminded of a powerful lesson, one that had become dim in my memory due to the weight of life’s daily challenges.