Happiness is … walking

I came across this poem while walking in Manchester yesterday. I have walked by here and not noticed it before, but this time I stopped to take a phone call, looked up, and found myself trying to make out the words while paying attention to the person on the line. Such a fitting poem for this city, and also just the sort of surprise art I equate with my visits here.

A fuzzy caterpillar 🐛

I took a few minutes from my walk to say hi to this critter making her own way along the South West Coast Path in Cornwall, UK.

Walking along the Bridgewater canal

It was probably not the best idea to try a walk like this when I was battling a cold, but the canal was lovely and I couldn’t resist the sunshine. ☀️

An unexpected welcome

Spotted on a walk past the Manchester Museum, this neon sign is a piece of artwork by Waqas Khan that means “welcome.”

Moving a little each day

I am not a gym-lover. I am not a runner. I am also not consistent about practicing yoga, even though I love it.

But I know this about myself: If I find a way to be even slightly active during the day, I will be happier for it.

And so I have been working on that. I have done 20-minute yoga classes, because sometimes I have to ignore my judgy, perfectionist brain telling me I really should practice for an hour and be realistic about what’s going to happen. I tried a Zumba class because 45 minutes of feeling silly was absolutely worth the happy-exhausted feeling I ended with. I even joined a gym because knowing that my husband also plans to go will at least get me out of the house and moving a couple times a week.

And today? Today I did none of those things. Today I opted to walk the 20 minutes between my dentist’s office and a coffee shop, and that was most of my activity for the day. And it counted — my brain and my body tell me it was worth it.

Embracing serendipity

While in Chicago for a few days, we decided to walk to the lakeshore. We didn’t make any plans — just walked and saw what we saw. It was a beautiful day!