NEW YEAR’S LESSON

Earlier this week I was out for a walk and came across two sets of wolf tracks. I pursued the ones that were headed in my direction, and when they veered off trail, jumped up a rock-cut and then returned, I was puzzled so went to have a look. Once up top, I saw snow-covered fox tracks and quickly understood the diversion. I guess the wolf was just as curious as I was. From there, it meandered further down the hill, over to a frozen swamp, circled back up, and trundled on. Even though these tracks were pretty fresh, I knew I’d never catch up with it. Still, I hoped to catch a glimpse of the beautiful, elusive creature so sat down and put myself in neutral.

I had come out on the walk thinking about discipline and wanting to cultivate more of it in my life since I’d already broken my New Year’s resolution. Mother Nature it seemed, being a kind and gracious teacher, was obliging me here with a lesson. Dear friend, perhaps you aren’t being successful with your attempts at discipline because you don’t truly understand it. Here, have another look. It’s not what you think it is. Really, it’s not. Relax and have another look. Peering around through the trees, I began thinking about the wolf and its behaviour. As I settled down, what had occurred to me was that even though the wolf had been on the hunt, like all disciplined warriors, it remained calm, followed its instincts and quietly persevered. In case I missed the point there, when I got home, I came across a quote I had written in my journal: Adopt the ways of Nature. Her method is one of patience. Hmm.

I had previously come to realize I needed tutoring in this subject a few months ago when I got a treadmill and tried to acquire instant health. I thought I was being reasonable, actually, by starting with a ten minute walk followed by a twenty minute run, but it didn’t take long for my body to start revolting. Achilles tendonitis and plantar fasciitis soon had me hobbling, but because I was determined, I kept at it. Discipline, I had thought, was about choosing a new way and then forcing yourself to stick to it.

Fortunately before I could do any real damage, I had to go in to the city for a few days. While there, I stopped in at a runner’s store and sought advice about shoes and orthopaedic inserts thinking poor alignment was the cause of my problem. After hearing this, the guy just snickered and, wanting to confirm his suspicions, asked how long and how often I had been running. After my reply, he just shook his head and kindly began his lecture.

Apparently the best way to begin a running program that best suits the body is to start by alternatively walking one minute and then running one minute. Soon you graduate to walk one: run two, and then walk one: run three, etcetera. Eventually you’re where you want to be and your body is comfortable with the stress. At first this was a real nuisance because I had to keep pushing the buttons back and forth, adjusting for the different speeds. But then I came to appreciate the method and saw that it was sustainable and would allow me to thrive. Discipline, I had learned from observing the wolf tracks, wasn’t just about perseverance, it was also about patience and awareness.

Something shifted within and one of the things I became aware of was that discipline, like the changing of the seasons, had a certain, undeniable rhythm to it. Here we are in the winter: a time of darkness and hibernation. As we head into spring, and as daylight gradually increases, things will slowly start warming up and moving about. Before long, there will be a quick acceleration in the growth rate and life will abound and multiply. In summer, the high level of energy will become the norm and life will flourish. And in the fall, it will all gradually begin to slow down and then stop again. This too was the way of discipline: difficult at first to get going, becoming increasingly easier with practice, stabilizing and then becoming difficult again. As I tossed a log on the fire, I gasped because I had realized it had built up in this pattern too: kindling, branches, and then logs. Wow, this was the way all things evolved – including gaining patience: have patience gaining patience.

I shall apply this new understanding with compassion, and perhaps in the spring I will be able to rename this column: Running Along the White Trail.