Yesterday was pretty much the perfect Mental Health Day. It was really cold but beautifully sunny, and it was as if the entire population of Southend looked out of their window and thought ‘fuck it, let’s get outside.’ My daughter had many, many Good Dogs to photograph, I got to have an Italian Black Magic (see below) and there was finally some exercise away from the Gym or the Shed.
In fact, there was so much exercise yesterday I negated the entire experience.
Nine miles is a lie. It was six miles before the cycling, and closer to thirty miles afterwards. The detachable portion of my watch, when I’m cycling, is by my ankle, so steps are only a rough approximation of real distance. That’s why Strava’s a real boon now: I still need another 30 miles today to hit my weekly target, and like the fool I am they’re gonna be done probably before lunchtime, so I have the rest of the day to work.
I’m not sure what happened between last year and now, but yesterday when given the chance of taking a train or walking, I picked the latter. Somehow, I am more comfortable out of a chair and not in, which makes the time writing obtain special importance. Everything has slightly more urgency than was previously the case. It is improving mood and productivity, but most importantly is helping to allow a realisation of just how fucking lucky I am right now.
Walking home last night I was genuinely at peace for the first time in a while. I need more Mental Health Days like this, and the reminder that sometimes you don’t need anything else to be happy except the understanding you’re a very small part of an extremely big picture, and that’s perfectly fine. Turning the camera away from yourself, not worrying about your own issues, but instead looking outwards to not only enjoy but accept the enormity of everything does not need to be frightening. Humbling yourself is a good lesson to learn.
Enjoying what you have rather than complaining about what you don’t should be the way forward