Just play

                    crtsy: fabian-centeno@unsplash

Was creaking my 67 y/o frame out of bed a few hours prior. Unwound it down our 12 stairs for that bowl of raisin cereal and set coffee to brewing. The to do list up was upgraded to version—you know.

Sigh.

Looked down valley at bleak, early winter Pennsylvania. I had to take a gander outside.

                                   out the back compound

Walked a minute through brisk, (like the iced tea version, minus the tea), air. The crispness continued on my bare feet, across snow crusted grass.

My apparel, not a long term strategy, cut short my musings.

In the temperate indoor climate, I queried my spouse. "Remember those exercise classes in kindergarten?” She nodded at my ramblings.

“We would stretch to the sky, or bend over like elephants, swinging our arms to and fro.” Our first free exercise class, I thought to myself. She disappeared into the bathroom, preparing for a holiday outing with sewing friends.

I wondered if there was some documentation of those days, before cell phones, in the early days of ‘instamatic cameras’. No. Nobody was documenting those events. That would be weird.

I searched for photos, and I did find play. The wonder of play. When teachers gathered us and said we’re going to stretch our bodies. I checked in with my body, are you getting this?

                              crtsy: mi-pham@unsplash

Them was the days. Just go outside awhile. Our teachers would turn us loose to dissipate some of that energy—imagine that!

Maybe after lunch there’d be some art. Just messy finger paint or some stick finger drawings.

So I have been clandestinely setting up some countermeasures for my lethargy.

Not on the check off list. Not in the measure and be exact category. Just in the joy and stretch division.

Anyways, I’ve gotta go play.

                      crtsy: senjuti-kundu@unsplash