Chelle Summer

reflection

Building Blocks

Michelle Rusk

Autobiographies have always been my thing. At the core of what motivates me, you’ll find it’s figuring out what inspires others. This was part of the basis behind writing my newest book, Route 66 Dreams– in searching through the depths of figuring out who I am, I wondered how I arrived at the place I’m at. More specifically, what has motivated me to get here and what motivates me to keep going?

Last week, I mentioned that between my arriving at a new decade and effects of the pandemic, I’m finding some of those motivations and inspirations have changed. I still feel like I’m standing in a hallway of doors that have closed and waiting on some to still open (a few have opened, a few have cracked open leaving me hopeful, but not always sure what’s coming). I know that it’s up to me to open to new inspirations and motivations, yet I am still aware that it can take time to see them or become aware of them.

There is something else, however, that I’ve always understood from my own life experiences and reading those of others– we often look at someone and say, “Wow, look at all they accomplished!” But we also often don’t look close enough to see the places in their lives where– and I don’t want to use the word “failed” but instead say “things didn’t work out as planned.” While we are motivated when good things happen (it’s almost a relief for me to feel the movement under my feet, like standing on a surfboard and finally hitting the wave just right to ride it to shore). Yet sometimes the bigger motivation for us is when things don’t work out, when bad things happen, when life changes course in a way that we didn’t want or embrace. Yet it’s the way that led us to something bigger, to seeing we were capable of much more than maybe we even dreamed.

We must take time the time– and energy!– to be reflective. Yes, there is pain in reaching back to some things, maybe some things we thought we had pushed the door closed on, and yet maybe there’s still something to learn from them before we push them closed for good.

I was out running one morning last week when it occurred to me that things had changed, that I was going to have to forge a new way forward. And yet in that searching, I realized that there is a little side road through my past I need to take. I’m not really sure why, but I do know it’s one that keeps lingering, like where old Route 66 runs alongside the interstate. I’m hopeful that taking this journey another time will be a huge step forward.

Taking My Steps

Michelle Rusk

Some years ago, I was leading a workshop on suicide prevention at a resort outside Phoenix. We were working with a group of people– all Navajo– from the Navajo Nation. It was a multi-day workshop and on the second morning when I went for my run among the saguaro cactus, I saw one of the participants also out for run. We waved and greeted each other.

Later, when we had gathered for the second day of the workshop, he said that as Navajos they believe it's important to start the day by "taking our steps"– if possible, when the sun is rising.

I didn't realize it at the time but it's something I do every day. As the years have gone on and I've gathered more dogs into my home, my run got earlier and earlier so to allow time for them to have their walks as well.

Each morning I am out before the sun comes up and finishing with Chaco's short walk to the park by the time daylight is covering the city. 

And during that time, I see how much I appreciate not just darkness turning to light but the space of reflection that gives me. For years I have been praying on my run-walk with Chaco, giving thanks for the day before and asking for what I need in my life. 

But about a month ago I hurt my leg after an accident with Lilly, my youngest dog– as she was flying down the stairs, I was walking up then and she ran her head into my knee. I had several days where I wasn't allowed to go on a walk at all. Not taking my steps as darkness turned to light, my routine upside down, took a toll on the importance of the morning to me and the way that I start my day. 

We shouldn't just reflect on the day when it is over, but as it's beginning, giving us perspective to make the most of what's ahead of us.