Just Another Day!

Taking to the road when you wake up for a brisk stroll sounds like a New Year's resolution to swear by—mental well-being, physical fitness, and self-discipline. However, I see it differently: more like a morning ritual to check the weather, feel my body, and, most importantly, express gratitude to the Universe.

Sometimes, like this morning, you get out of bed in a fit of rage after your mind refuses to surrender its cyclone of "what-ifs." It constantly pulls you into its center by setting up guilt traps: you shouldn't have let your fears take over; you missed that opportunity—it was specially sent your way by the Universe. In Michael Jackson's words, "The ideas you don't work on are the Universe's gift to you; you skip it, you lose it, and someone else gets a chance." Why did you compensate for your failure with a scoop of indulgence? Why did you not clear the air with your friend—you knew what they wanted? No matter how hard you try, the mind never takes a break from feeding on such thoughts, akin to a swarm of ants bustling over every last molecule of a sugary doughnut left on the table. So, I decided to tire my brain by getting physically exhausted—sweat out the noise.

Stepping out unprepared in August means risking being drenched by cold showers and teased by an even cooler breeze. I was too focused on fighting my mind to take practical measures like any reasonable person would. The initial few minutes of my walk felt like an absolute waste of effort. Not only was my mind overcrowded with thoughts, but my instincts also roped in to stop me every few steps to check my smartwatch with an almost unbelievable certainty that I had been walking for an hour. To my utter disgust, it had only been two minutes.

Before I knew it, I was running down the street, my speed increasing as if I were in a race against the thoughts in my head. Some thoughts were so heavy they slowed me down as though someone were pulling me back by the collar of my t-shirt; nevertheless, I sped up. After a while, my thumping heart resounded in my ears, and my racing thoughts softened into a distant chatter. Air gushed through my nostrils, filled my chest, glided past my hands, and brushed against my thighs. I pushed faster, like a rocket trying to break orbit and enter space.

Gradually, the soft chirping of birds, faint barking of distant dogs, and the subtle hum of insects replaced the heavy thuds of my heart. "Oh," I sighed, as I could no longer push forward and slowed to a walk. My calves were taut and my hamstrings strained.

I looked around to see how far I had come; the density of the foliage confirmed I had left the residential blocks behind. Titanium-white clouds floated across an orange-hued, light-blue sky—a trophy earned for moving against my mind and taming the tempest. My cheeks felt flushed, my eyes moist, and my heart light as a feather. I said to myself, "Good morning, darlin', to a day that you own!"