Tonight was another journey around the block, this time with Syrah in hand.
As I wandered around the neighborhood - again as last night, sheathed in darkness although not nearly so many groups of cars and flickering ghostly lights - I laughed to myself as Syrah was sniffing yet another spot where obviously someone had stopped visit. "Taking myself for a walk" I said and chuckled.
And then thought about the statement for a little while.
Taking myself for a walk. Implies a few things, does it not? Like I need to be taken for a walk - or rather, I need to allow that I should be taken for a walk.
And to be taken for a walk is not a one time thing. It is a daily thing, something I have let slip to the side in the last few months as other things came up. Justifiable things in my mind, but nothing so justifiable that it should prevent me from doing this.
The investment? Time of course, that most precious of commodities. But just like walking Syrah, the benefits of a walk - 30 minutes out of a day - far outweighs the simple use of the time. It is not just the practice of exercising - indeed, it is the practice of getting away from all and being able to be alone with one's self with purpose and yet relaxing.
I certainly have not been taking myself for a walk as I should have been. But there is no reason to believe that it carries no less criticality for myself than for Syrah.
Besides, only one of us has to wear a leash.