Intervals, a Plunk, a Poem

Intervals and plunks of presence. Presence: right here, right now. Presence: my goal to achieve and a struggle to maintain.

Practice makes progress possible. Practice more presence.

About those those intervals: I am a runner. With the summer months, I try to increase mileage and I have started doing some intervals and more conditioning runs in my shorter runs. It is important to keep this body guessing, pushed, and also give myself a good cardio workout— my longer runs are conversational-paced. 

My intervals are pretty informal. One might be a sprint of 100 meters. (I use the word sprint loosely here.) Another might be sustaining a faster pace for 2 minutes. Intervals command presence. Each stride. Lungs burning. The marker along the trail or on my watch that is my current goal. Running is an activity that keeps me present. Intervals kick it up a notch.

And about that plunk: Plunk is a word I don’t use much. I love words. They are so varied and precise and imprecise all at once. It’s no wonder I like the word game “Wordle.” I play it daily, usually early in the day. Plunk was yesterday’s Wordle answer. I got it on two tries, and that after getting NO letters with my usual first word. That was exciting! 

Why plunk?  I use “a” and “e” as vowels in my first word and “s” and “t.” When none of those showed up, I just started with “pl”, thought about using “o”, but leaned toward “u”, then finished it off with “n” and “k.” To my surprise, it was the word of the day!  Plunk yourself down and relish that for a minute Lisa. Plunk yourself down in the middle of the day and step outside, or look outside, and absorb the pace of Nature. Plunks of presence.

The poem? Take a moment to read, then re-read Presence by Melissa Shaw-Smith. It is a beautiful poem. Consider this line: “What if for one day each being put down their burdens, their words of hate, their inhumanity and breathed in the presence?”

Presence isn’t just healthy for us individually, it is necessary for us collectively, and for our planet and all who reside here.

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The Foot Race

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The Practice of Presence