To Clear One's Head

My boots crushed the snow underfoot, my legs pumping as I climbed the hill. I drove all thoughts from my head as I moved, focusing solely on the physical activity, my mind directed only on the act of lifting one foot, lowering it, lifting the other...

An hour later, my breath fogged in front of my face, the cold piercing my skin, keeping me awake. The world seemed tiny from my perch on the snow-capped rise, the lights of the apartments below mere pinpricks of color in the darkness. For once, the world was silent. I was alone, standing on the hill, and, finally, I allowed my thoughts to wander.

How had this happened? Why this, why now? There'd been nothing, and then there'd been... something. And it had arrived with the subtlety of a freight train to the face, shattering my resolve completely.

I wasn't against it, per se. No, rather, I was very much in favor of embracing the situation, of stopping talk and starting action. Too often, we say one thing and do another... Too often, we call ourselves one thing, and become another. We betray ourselves, daily, constantly, consistently. "Let's be ___," we tell ourselves, or, worse, "We are ___," but there's no weight behind the words. We say, but we don't do.

And yet, as much as I wanted to stop saying, and start doing, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was perched on a ledge, and simply could not make make myself leap to the next building. My fear of heights, of failure, of complications was betraying me... Excuses aside, however, I was betraying myself.

Standing on the hill, having left the warmth of my dorm room in the late hours of the night (or the early hours of the morning, depending on your perspective) to take some time to organize my thoughts, I came to a realization. My thoughts simply couldn't be organized, nor should they be. That was the cause of my dilemma in the first place... Too much thought.

And so, clearing my head once more, I began the long hike back to the dorms, intent on being unintent, determined to simply see where the natural ebbs and flows of life would deliver me... Just lifting one foot, lowering it, lifting the other...

Where you off to with that head of yours?

Is there somewhere you should be?

Was it something that I said the time I held you down

And told you it's not you, it's only me?

-Foo Fighters, But Honestly