The danger of running

"I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

- Henry David Thoreau

I was not a runner in school. I learned the danger of running later when I already had hardened habits and constricted thinking. The many physical hazards of running are well known: drivers who accelerate right into you without looking, snow hiding a sloped shoulder edge so that one misstep sends you crashing to the ground, a crowded race where it's easy to fall off an unseen curb tearing muscle and skin. But the real danger is more subtle:

• Run one mile without stopping.
• You can probably run two miles, and you do.
• You run four miles. Most people tell you they can't imagine running so far.
• Run ten miles then do it again but faster. If you can run ten miles what else can you do?
• Run a half marathon. If you did that, who knows what your limit is?
• You believe you can run a half marathon. It takes work but you do it.
• You know you can do a marathon so you do.

This is the true danger of running. Because soon your life isn't framed by the words, "I can't do that." Instead it unfurls before you like an open road, or path, or trail, and you think, "What can't I do?" Open the door and go out; I've learned it's always a good day for a run.

For Sarah, who started me running. Racing in Kenya.
Photo copyright 2010 Mary Crockett.

The Shadows Will Be Behind You if You Walk Into the Light

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."

- Martin Luther King Jr.

With this morning's news of government employee malfeasance^[1] and the shamelessly brazen behavior of elected officials^[2] it would be easy to give free rein to winter darkness and the cynical feelings it breeds. After a brief renewal of my ongoing internal struggle with despair over the human condition I decided that rather than allowing small people to waste my time and attention I would concentrate it instead on someone who did something positive and improved the world.

Tom White was a founder and backer of Partners In Health. He died earlier this month. His friend Paul Farmer gave a wonderful eulogy that I encourage you to read in full^[3].

Tom was a great man by conventional criteria but mistrusted, most of his life, these criteria. He was, as has been noted far and wide, a successful businessman who mistrusted the trappings of wealth and served as a model for spreading it around. He was a Harvard graduate who by his own account didn’t study much; a decorated soldier who was at heart a pacifist; a successful businessman who relied on generosity and trust in all his dealings; a devout Catholic who acknowledged crises of faith and knew the sharp limitations of all human institutions; and a family man with a large family here in this city and, thanks to his family’s willingness to share him, scattered throughout the wide world. . . Nothing made him happier than fixing a problem, but there were some he could not fix, and he confronted these too. When he could not save a life, or ease a loved one’s pain, he was still left with his ministry of showing up.

One of the many examples I should learn from Tom White's life is that even if I can't solve a problem I can still show up. Even if the situation is difficult, or it's awkward and I don't know what to do, I guess I can hold a hand at least as as well as the next person and be there.

1 - Democrat and Chronicle (David Damelio charged $3,988 at N.Y.C. strip club)
2 - Democrat and Chronicle (State Sen. James Alesi suing over fall at unfinished home)
3 - Partners in Health (He restored our faith in faith itself.)

Economy

In the not so distant past when the only food available was what was in season the act of canning food in the summer for use in the winter was probably undertaken as a necessary chore. I imagine that most people today, if they are aware of canning at all, think of it as pointless work since almost all fruits and vegetables are available year round. But there is a deep satisfaction that comes from making food (preferably from produce grown in your own garden) and storing it away for the future.

Jars of pizza sauce cooling. Happiness and contentment.

Canning is not an easy task, there is preparation to be done including picking, washing, cutting, and maybe cooking. There is lively discussion, "Is that Basil or Parsley?" "Should the water be boiling when the jars go in, or just simmering?" And finally waiting for that tell-tale pop from each lid that indicates a jar is sealed, and that all the work that went into it was successful. The best part about canning is the feeling of satisfaction. Satisfaction that you have filled a basic need. Satisfaction that in the dark and cold of February you can open a jar of pears that you canned in the fall and those pears remind you that spring must come again and it is not so far away.

When the canning is finished and the equipment washed there is a contentment and peacefulness found in contemplating the jars cooling on the counter. Canning is a positive act that engages the best human characteristics: nurturing a garden, caring for living beings, patience as the plants grow, skilled work processing the produce in the jars, storing the food for the future, and finally enjoying the hard work when a jar is opened. In closing I must thank my parents for my introduction to canning; even the memory of those days when I came home from school and the house was filled with an almost over-powering smell of vinegar because relish was being canned has not been enough to prevent me from doing the same (canning that is, not making relish).