Every morning at 6am my alarm goes off. Sometimes I’m already awake, eyes bleary from an interrupted night of sleep, by either a child or my own mind moving to corners of my brain that I might avoid during waking hours. Other times, I reach for the alarm from my cocoon of sleep and start the process of removing myself from bed. I wake up at this time to start my day with exercise, alternating between a run and riding @onepeloton (name drop). In this time of face masks and social distancing I usually bring a mask along on my run. Rarely do I intend to put it on, more so I bring it as a courtesy and as a symbol to those I might see that I care about everyone’s health and safety. Usually I cross the road rather than put it on, keeping several car lengths between me and those I encounter. 

Slightly more alert to those around me I have noticed that when I see a body up ahead, walking a dog or doing their morning run, often it is hard to determine which way they are headed. If they are far enough away, my eyes struggle to perceive their direction. Sometimes I continue to focus on them determined to figure out which way they are traveling. Other times I let my eyes roam off of the form ahead to explore my current surroundings. To enjoy the moment. Figuring I will find out soon enough. 

We are living in a time where the future is unknown. We cannot pinpoint a time frame for the return of “normal”. We can’t even picture what “normal” will be. I want to look ahead and know the intention of tomorrow. I want answers. I want plans. I want control. I’m learning that just like the pedestrians on the horizon of my morning runs, I cannot determine the direction of what is up ahead. In the uncertainty of what is to come, I need to focus on the steps I am taking right now. The scenery of this moment. And tomorrow I will try to do the same.