Marlow's Musings 1/21/24
Insights, adventures and fun stuff from this week.
Audio narration by David Marlow
“There's no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing.”
Alfred Wainwright
There is a spot on my runs exactly half a mile from my house where my legs loosen, and the starvation ends in my lungs.
It is what used to be the edge, the end of our subdivision. Below was a valley and farm. The farm is still there at the far reaches with homes in between. That’s where E’s sheep, as we call them, “spend their time chomping on the grass.” E is a storyteller already.
It was a bitter day where the wind hurls needles at your face. Those are what my running friend Matt calls the ‘badass’ days. His are in 90° heat and humidity in Florida. Mine are in single digits and snow in Wisconsin.
Nearing the edge, something was wrong. My chest tightened, and each breath became more difficult. The half-mile mark was only yards away, “I’ll stop there,” I told myself, pushing on as the vice around my lungs constricted.
Arriving at the edge, the vice closed. I couldn’t take in a breath. Frantically, I began ripping off clothing, hoping to free my lungs. Simultaneously looking around for someone, anyone who might call 911.
The chill vanished, down to shorts and a thin baselayer shirt, and despite the fierce wind, the only thing I could sense was the vice easing. My breath slowly returned.
Moments before, I was looking for someone to help, though now I was relieved there wasn’t anyone around to see me standing in the snow in shorts with clothing flung on the ground all around me.
As you might have guessed, a doctor's visit followed soon after, where I learned I had something labeled “cold-induced asthma.”
Memories erupted of cold gymnasiums when I was a kid and basketball games where I was suddenly short of breath. Back then, I assumed it was because I was out of shape.
Then, another painful memory flashed in my mind.
We had been at it all day, humping the hills, as Marines like to refer to hiking with full packs and combat gear. By evening, there was a frosty bite in the Santa Margarita Mountains above Camp Pendelton.
Despite the chill, sweat was pouring down my face. My shoulders felt every one of the 70 pounds in my fully loaded pack. As a squad leader, I set an example for my squad. That meant marching up those hills with everything I had, taking larger and larger gulps of the cold air.
Suddenly, the pack felt heavier, and the gulps of air stopped. It wasn’t hard to breathe; I couldn’t breathe!
Dropping out of line, I collapsed on the ground, unable to fill my lungs. Within moments, a drill instructor was standing over me, yelling at me for being a…well, I’ll use civilian terms, a slacker.
“And a squad leader?! A squad leader falling out! You disgust me. You are done as a squad leader.”
I didn’t have enough breath to explain, not that it would have been well received anyway. As he walked away, enough air returned to my lungs that I could get on my feet.
As we reached the top of the hill, there was camp. We had only been a few hundred meters from being done. If I had only toughed it out a little while longer. I felt like a complete failure.
Despite the setback, I regained my standing with the drill instructors and eventually received a meritorious promotion as one of the top five performing Marines in boot camp.
Still, that moment of weakness haunted me. I never shared it with anyone until I shared it with the doctor.
“That was definitely an asthma event,” he said. “You’ve probably had it all your life.”
Over time, the memory has been rehabilitated. It wasn’t instantaneous by any means. The pain of that event as a failure was carved deep. I felt freedom, though not entirely free.
A road on a hill down by the lake is lined with ancient oaks and sits at the same angle as that last hill on the march.
Last summer, I neared the top and stopped, measuring the distance in my mind. Muttering, “That’s about right,” I took off running as hard as my legs would carry me.
My mind’s eye flashed to the hill in California, only this time, lungs filled, I finished the ‘hump.’
Reaching the crest, I paused. Private Marlow was free, and then I kept running.
Word of the Week
Redeem (v.)
re·deem
/rəˈdēm/
1: Compensate for the faults or bad aspects of (something)
2: Extricate from or help to overcome something
3: To change for the better
4: Offset the bad effect of, to make worthwhile, repair, restore
Early definitions from the 15 century include “buying back, ransom, recover by purchase," also in a theological sense, "deliver from sin and spiritual death."
A general sense in all modern and older definitions is of making right and restoring what has been lost.
In case you missed it…
Podquest Episode 2 is Here! 🎙️
In this episode of PodQuest, I interview Diane Wyzga, a former Navy nurse, attorney, and a seasoned storyteller. In our conversation, we dive deep into her unique career and life journey, including Diane's experiences in the Navy, her transition into law, and her passion for storytelling.
We discuss the importance of understanding oneself and the power of stories in connecting with others. Diane elaborates on her work helping people find their voice, the value she sees in 'origin stories', and the meaningful impact a single conversation can have.
In this clip, Diane shares her personal journey and call to purpose...
Check it out!
The full audio podcast…
For Ikiquest+ Subscribers, it is also available in video…
Earlier this week’s Ikigai Thought for Today was on Pizza Possibility —rolling with disappointment to embrace the moment.
Ikiquest+
Coffee Contemplation for Ikiquest+ subscribers was about the benefits of The Seven Rituals of Calm.
The Contemplation explores how the 7 Rituals helps us remain calm and live in harmony in whatever our circumstances.
This was the second all-audio post with the transcript available for reading.
Comment of the Week:
This week’s comment is from Jon about the ‘If you were a tree…” musing.
I love the tree quote… definitely thought provoking. But there was this gem:
“And it was light. Even at night, the snow echoed enough light to witness the world.”
Yes, it is frigid out. But, gosh, a winter wonderland is powerful.
You help us quest David.
Quote I’m Pondering
This thought is from Robert Haas. In his poem, he quoted Ellen Douglas, a novelist who operated under the pen name Josephine Ayres Haxton, and the memorable remarks she made in a speech a decade before dying in 2012. Did you follow all of that? It’s well worth the effort. 😉
“If you want to write, read,
And if you read good books well, it will wake in you
A desire to say what you mean. At least it did In me.
The things that you read that matter to you,
The things they call your influences, are the books
That introduce you to yourself, and they will lead,
Or ought to, to a patient persistent attempt
To say what you mean."
It sparks for me the question of what things influence me and, in the process, uncover more of me for me to see.
Interesting Thing I Saw This Week
Charlotte Durance's work caught my eye this week. I marvel at people who embody and express their art from their souls. From my distant observation, it seems Charlotte does that.
The link is to the first edition of her Substack newsletter which expresses her love of color and her desire to explore color in whatever she sees.
Check out her substack for some splendid articles or her website for more fun illustrations like the one I share here.
Final Thoughts
With each step on my quest, redemption takes on a richer, more intimate significance.
The late Rev. Timothy Keller wrote in his books on the idea that everything will be redeemed. “All things sad will become untrue.” Every loss, sadness, hurt, and wrong. Every missed opportunity, mistake, and even sin—all will be redeemed.
‘Failure’ in the Santa Margarita Mountains was redeemed half a continent away on a cold day in Wisconsin. The more I uncover on this journey of self-reflection, the more the sad things become untrue.
Quest well
What a beautiful story of self-redemption, David. We should remember not everything is clear in any given moment. Some things take years to understand.
It would be remiss of me not to also credit my beloved book club & our guest speaker Bridget Stutchbury, author of Silence of the Songbirds. For they stoked within me a question we pondered...how does what seems to be the insatiable sense of curiosity in children...seem to dwindle? And my resultant...wonder 😊
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/hide-and-seek/201412/study-wonder