🚶‍♀️Noticing Nothing Special Moments on My 12 Hour Walk

Letter 188

Aloha fellow learn-it-all 👋

Greetings from Honolulu!

This is my last Wednesday of 2023 on the island. Wowzers. So many feels for the travels ahead.

I’m grateful I decided to take a little dip and swim for 30 minutes yesterday afternoon. I saw two sea turtles sleeping on the bottom. They looked so at peace. Calm. Just a lil weekly reminder to look for the simple moments in the day, instead of feeding the story of chaos that can come with the holiday season.

Anywho, last year I started a ritual of doing an annual 12-hour walk. I did mine last week.

Now, let’s dive into letter 188 from a learn-it-all. Enjoy!

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❓Question to think about

How can I stop having an addiction to novelty and flip the switch towards gratitude in my life, even the monotonous routine of my days?

🖊️Writing

Below are five poems. They all have photos. They are all works in progress. I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think :)

📜🖋 Poetry Corner

Noticing Nothing Special Moments

Part of a collection from my 12-hour walk

Poem (1):

🚶‍♀️My 12 Hour Walk

When I’m stuck in a groove
I go outside and move, 
I think “c’mon dude”
Let’s get out of this mood!

When I am in a rut,
I feel like I’m a mut
Someone coexisting
Many selves entwined.

Needing a new record
My mind’s is on repeat
With the track it has stored.

This cassette has me bored
I am in dire need of 
Something to get me floored.

Steph by step, I walk
Observing as I stalk.
Silence tempers my talk
Focusing every block.

I wore my white watch
So I’d have a clock.
This is my 12 hour walk.

Poem (2):

🕊️ Pigeon Whisperer

I 
smell 
sunscreen
in the air
from him over there.
The birds magnetize to that man. 
He is contented.
Company
he loves
to
keep. 

Poem (3):

🌅 Sunrise Sensations and Salutations

I
sense
chicken
skin on my 
forearms– shivers run.
“Good morning!” chirp the dogwalkers.
Good it is morning.
Hi again
sunshine,
missed
you. 

Poem (4):

🌲 Escape to the Trees

As I walk up
Ascending the altitude, renewed,
Away from city noise, solitude.

Where most sounds vaporize,
I hear birds overhead singing,
Next to a jackhammer just beginning.

I ask myself:
“Why are we humans instrusive?”
Blasting surround sound 
by LMFAO 
What plutonic music, 
I wish to be a sea cow.
Ear drums deep below the air, 
far from the blasting.

When I get to the top
My dupa takes a plop
My shoes fall right off
Faster than the speed
I eat mom’s stroganoff.

A sturdy tree calls, and I draw near,
Extending greetings, arms wide, no fear.
In sync, we breathe, an intimate trace,
Grateful for the absence of life's humdrum pace.

I thank thee for the sturdy embrace,
In the silence, finding a tranquil space.

Poem (5): 

🪧 Street Signs

When I see a sign,
Hidden, maybe behind a pine,
It stirs a hint of whine.


Telling me how to live.
At times, I yearn for a directive,
Where to go, Who to be
Guidance on what to pursue,
Yet, in truth, I crave independence too.
Don’t we all?

Directing life's winding stream,
Craving for one guiding dream.
Where to tread, which path to choose,
Identity in street signs, I muse.

Craving direction, a scripted role,
Yet, free will calls, a deeper goal.
In the paradox, we all reside,
Yearning for signs, yet free to decide.

📖 Reading

I read about this concept of a “Walk and Talk" from Derek Sivers fascinates me. I would love to lead or be a part of one of these in 2024 of having intentional conversations across a week of time with a group of people.

🎧Listening

“Last of the Loving” by Coco

holing up and watching movies while you sleep
the sun glows on the curtain
and a month is like a week

i love you more when you never say goodbye
i love you more when you never make me cry

🔍Word to define

Flâneur: a stroller, lounger, saunterer, or loafer. Flânerie is the act of strolling. A near-synonym of the noun is boulevardier.

Etymology

Flâneur derives from the Old Norse verb flana, 'to wander with no purpose'. This comes from the tongue northern Germanic languages of the Vikings and their Scandinavian descendants by the 15th century. It became more prominently used in Danish tongue.

The flâneur evolved into being a literary type from 19th-century France, essential to any picture of the streets of Paris. The word carried a set of rich associations: the man of leisure, the idler, the urban explorer, the connoisseur of the street.

The flâneur concept is not limited to someone strolling, but can also include a "complete philosophical way of living and thinking". A process of navigating erudition as described by Nassim Nicholas Taleb's essay "Why I Walk".

Example: Perhaps we can all embrace our inner-flâneur and intentionally create more thinking time in our days.

Copied from 🌟 Letter 43 from a learn-it-all 🌟

🌟Quote to inspire

“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who'll decide where to go...” – Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You'll Go!

📸Photo (selfie) of the Week

I was exhausted and this moment of being able to lay horizontal at the top of Wa’ahila Ridge Trail was such a beautiful moment.

🙏Shoutouts

• To my friend Alex for also walking in San Francisco!

• To

  Michelle Elisabeth Varghese
  , Hannah, and Abigail for their support in putting together these poems!

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I appreciate you reading this!

If ideas resonated, I’d love you to press the heart button, leave a comment, reply to this email, or reach me at vermetjl@gmail.com. If you forgot who I am, I welcome you to my online home.

Keep on learning 😁

Mahalo 🌺

Jen

PS - here’s the letter from last year’s 12 hour walk

PPS - my past self inspired much of these poems from my letter on 🐉 Writing Poems on Baby Komodo Dragon Sighting, Dragon Fruit & Life at Sea

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