Mindful Miles

Movement. Joy. Reflection.

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  • Indoor Miles: The Quiet Hero of Consistency

    We all know the glory of an outdoor Mindful Mile—the fresh air and wide-open space. But for most, when the calendar shifts and the weather becomes truly extreme, those outdoor miles are simply not enjoyable. If you’re someone who doesn’t love layering up just to battle a biting wind or pouring rain, the Indoor Mile doesn’t just become an option; it becomes the quiet hero of consistency.

    This lifeline is what keeps the routine intact when motivation is low, especially during the colder months. There are days when the sky is genuinely uncooperative, or when an aggressive deadline means you just can’t spare the travel time. That is when the indoor walk proves its worth, protecting your mental health commitment from the inevitable seasonal reluctance.

    Moving the walk inside means letting go of your familiar scenery and embracing the repetitive loop. And honestly? I used to hate it. But now I see that the monotony is the medicine. When you’re forced to look at the same four walls, the same hallway, or the same stretch of carpet, the distraction of the external world vanishes. Your mind can no longer wander to external sights. Instead, you are immediately forced to confront—and accept—the current environment. This repetition teaches you to find focus wherever you are.

    The treadmill, the figure-eight loop through the kitchen and dining room, or the relentless marching in place: these are not failures of motivation; they are acts of creative commitment. They prove that your dedication to your mental health is stronger than any storm, rain, or packed schedule.

    The Indoor Mile might not feel as majestic as a walk through the woods, but it’s the mile you log purely out of discipline. It strips the walk down to its essence: the simple movement of your body and the conscious choice to be present in that movement.

    When you complete an Indoor Mile, you aren’t celebrating the distance; you’re celebrating the unwavering consistency that got you through the day.

    Here’s to finding the movement wherever you can, and turning the most mundane loop into an achievement.

    Happy Mindful Miles, everyone. May your commitment be stronger than your weather app.

  • I Finally Let Go of October

    Do you find it harder to let go of the beautiful, vibrant months, or are you always ready for the peaceful, fresh start of a new month?

    If you read my post on “Holding on to October,” you know I had a month-long attachment issue. Yes, I was the one holding on to the month past its sell-by date.

    As I prepared for my walk today, my eyes roved to the calendar on my phone and I suddenly had an awakening—my desperate clinging to October was futile. The realization left me chuckling at my own stubbornness.

    I tried holding on, convinced I could squeeze every last drop of that autumnal splendor out of it, but it was officially time to move forward. So, I did the only thing sensible: I finally let go of October.

    I’m truly lamenting the absence of the majestic feeling those walks gave me. For 31 days, I was living in a masterpiece! What I loved most was the beautiful leaf fall outside my door—the incredible, vibrant hues of yellow, orange, brown, and everything in between.

    Every morning, I walked out feeling like a queen as I stepped on the delicate beauty of scattered leaves that looked like fairies had sprinkled confetti just for me. Oh! How I wanted that feeling to last! Beautiful October.

    I knew I had to accept the change when these distinct, undeniable signs of November began showing up.

    First, the leftover Halloween candy started sending me passive-aggressive notes. It had migrated from the designated bowl to various kitchen counters and surfaces, silently judging me for not retiring it fast enough. It was clear the season’s sweet contract had expired.

    Then, the universe even got involved: my phone’s lock screen quietly changed from a cozy, orange-tinted forest to a stark, no-nonsense picture of a snowy pavement, which I took as a highly aggressive hint that the time for majestic walks was over.

    But the final straw? The Weather Made Me Choose. October was all about the blissful, gentle layers. November, however, just aggressively asked me, “Are you cold, or are you really cold? Pick one.” The wardrobe decision fatigue was hitting hard.

    I have packed up the oversized scarves, and while I will forever cherish and miss that majestic feeling of walking through golden confetti, I’ve now embraced November with emotional lightness 😄. I’m ready for the new perspective and quiet journey ahead, looking forward to the building sense of festive joy you promise to bring.

    Hello, November! I promise to just hold on to you for 30 days… and no more! (Probably).

    Happy Mindful Miles, everyone. May your next steps be forward, and may your leftover candy disappear responsibly.

  • The Girl That Became The Woman I am

    I was on my Mindful Miles today when my first daughter spotted a magnificent old tree, and it instantly brought a beautiful flood of memories to the surface. It’s amazing how a single moment in the present can connect you so deeply to the past. In that moment, I saw the little person I used to be, and I realized the person walking the path now is simply their grown-up, joyfully expressed version.

    I began thinking about the traits that defined that adventurous, curious child, and how they show up in my life today. Every action she took, no matter how small or silly, was a foundation for the strength and heart I rely on now.

    I remembered how my favorite adventure was tree climbing. I never just aimed for a low branch; I was always determined to reach the very top. I even have a scar from one great, daring ascent—my funny, favorite little trophy! Now that I’m grown, I don’t need to actually climb to prove my skills to my kids. I just flash them the scar and declare, “Proof!” It’s like my permanent, tiny, and slightly dramatic climbing certificate. That desire to always aim for the top didn’t disappear; it just grew up and became the positive ambition that fuels my days now.

    And then there was my quiet, contemplative side. You could often find me sitting still at the balcony, deeply focused on sketching a picture. While my sketchpad is now replaced by the glorious chaos of adulthood, I still love those rare moments when my girls and I pull out the pencils. It’s a sweet reminder of my need for mindful focus and creation.

    On the other end of the energy spectrum, I loved a game of football! I was the team striker, likely because when I wanted something—a goal, in that case—I wanted it badly. I recently tried a quick match with my son, and let’s just say he left me gasping for air and seriously questioning my “striker” status. That fire hasn’t faded; it just transformed into the unstoppable drive and dedication I bring to my passions now (and a gentle reminder that my cardio definitely needs work).

    When it came to TV time, you would find me watching documentaries, often about wildlife on National Geographic Channel. Now, in my adult years, that focus on mystery has been replaced by crime series on Netflix and Investigation Discovery, swapping the mysteries of the jungle for the mysteries of human nature!

    And my quiet, hidden inner life? I was always writing poems—secretly hidden away in a diary I guarded with my life, mostly about my first crush. I coudn’t even tell him I was crushing! 🤭 I was so incredibly shy back then. Those pages were classified at a level above top secret! That need for self-expression, once hidden, now finds its voice right here, with all of you.

    This walk was a beautiful realization that nothing is truly lost. Every shy secret, every determined climb, and every mindful sketch contributed to the strength and joy I feel today. The best part of my past is walking right alongside me, ready for the next mile.

    Embrace the amazing connections between who you were and who you are. The person I used to be is my greatest, most adventurous foundation.

    Happy new month! I hope you create the time for some “Retro-Miles” this November, celebrating that little person who has become the unique individual you are today. 😁

  • The Surprise That Didn’t Come in a Package

    The universe is constantly testing our priorities, and yesterday, it gave me a truly magnificent pop quiz.

    I got home from an overnight shift, famished, fatigued, and focused. My soul craved one thing: a warm bowl of oatmeal.

    I took a bath that was hurried by my hungry state, threw on the first acceptable garment, and launched into a full-on calorie sprint toward the kitchen.

    Then, the ambush.

    My two youngest girls materialized at the top of the stairs, blocking my descent. “Have you seen it, Mum?” they whispered. “Did you see it?” asked the older one, eyes wide with mysterious intensity.

    My rumbling stomach immediately stalled. What could it be? The last time it was a lovely piece of art. Before that, a sweet note about my cooking, wrapped up nicely.

    The suspense was killing me (and my hunger).

    I had a moment of intense internal debate: Duty to Parental Excitement vs. Duty to the Digestive System. Well, hunger won.

    I chose the oats. 🤭 (Don’t judge; I had worked all night! 😋)

    Twenty minutes later, with a full, satisfied belly, I calmly walked back upstairs. Guilt was already setting in for choosing carbs over connection.

    I should have suspected something was up when the girls were calmly treading behind me instead of sprinting ahead.

    We reached the bedroom door, and they froze, standing stiffly at the entrance.”Right there, Mum,” they pointed fearfully to the floor. “It’s a dead spider! Be careful, it’s huge!”

    The contrast was magnificent. All that dramatic build-up and parental suspense, for a stiff, eight-legged surprise. I looked at their terrified faces, then back at the floor, and instantly burst out laughing right there in the doorway.

    Guilt completely vanished. I truly couldn’t have made a better decision. The choice was never between art and food. It was between Dead Spider Relocation and Glorious Oatmeal.

    I realised I had sacrificed immediate parental connection for grain gratification with zero regret. Mindful prioritizing, achieved. And that, my friends, is the definition of a successful Mindful Mile 😄

  • Nothing is Little

    What if the biggest secret to a joyful life is that nothing is actually small? We often overlook the things that hold us up—until we truly pause. This morning, the humble path revealed the foundation of all happiness.

    I set out on my Mindful Miles today feeling absolutely joyful. It was one of those mornings where everything felt effortless and bright. I was cruising along a smooth stretch of asphalt lined with bright yellow wildflowers, feeling grateful for the easy ride.

    It was tempting to credit my good mood to the beautiful view or the perfect weather, but I paused and directed my gratitude down instead of out. I looked at the humble path itself: the small, tightly packed gravel, the unseen layer of crushed stone, and the solid earth beneath it all. This smooth, effortless feeling I was enjoying wasn’t built on spectacle; it was built on foundation.

    This small realization brought with it a wave of profound appreciation:

    The greatest joys and sturdiest successes in our lives are exactly the same. They rely not on the visible, grand achievements, but on the small, repeated, uncelebrated efforts we embed every day. The single healthy meal, the five-minute stretch, the conscious moment of not taking offense—these are the foundation stones that bear the weight of our biggest, brightest days. When we neglect these “little” things, the entire structure of our well-being becomes unstable. When we honor them, we grant ourselves effortless forward motion.

    I finished my walk with a deep, quiet reverence for the simple, consistent work that holds everything together. I realized that my energy, my peace, and my happiness are sustained by the invisible labor I perform when no one, not even myself, is paying close attention.

    Embrace the beautiful hidden strength that underlies your joy. Your dedication to the smallest, most consistent effort ensures that the path ahead remains steady, reliable, and continuously rewarding.

  • The Beauty of the Climb

    My miles felt like a mirror today. They started tough—a steep, relentless incline that made me slow to a crawl. My calves burned, my breath hitched, and honestly, all I could focus on was the effort. I kept thinking, “This is the ‘low’ phase of the walk; I wish I was already at the top.”

    Then, I stopped for a water break. I looked back, and from the difficult angle of the ascent, I saw the valley spread out below in an unexpected masterpiece of greens and blues. The view was beautiful, but it was the perspective that stunned me. That beautiful vista wasn’t visible from the flat, easy path I started on an hour ago. I had to climb through the struggle to earn that breathtaking vantage point.

    That’s when the lesson hit me, clear as the mountain air:

    Life is not meant to be one long, flat, easy trail. We spend so much energy wishing away the “low” phases—the job loss, the heartache, the confusing period—desperately waiting for the “highs.” But those challenging, uphill moments? They aren’t just obstacles; they are the price of admission for the best, most profound perspectives. The struggle is what elevates us, gives us the vantage point, and makes the subsequent, easier stretch feel like an absolute gift.

    I finished my walk differently, deliberately seeking gratitude for every part of the path: the smooth parts that allow me to cruise, and the tough parts that teach me how high I can truly climb.

    Let’s honor the entire journey today. Cheers to the lessons we learned in the valley, the strength we found on the steepest climb, and the glorious views we now carry within us.

    🥂 Here’s to embracing every step, and to the brighter days that beckon.

  • If Home is a Feeling, Where Do You Find it on the Move?

    Lacing up today to find that Internal Haven, the one that mimics the presence of my true North. We all carry a true ‘sanctuary’ with us on the trail.

    Oh, how I miss home!

    A walk is never just a walk, you see, It’s how I try to chart the peace you own. I walk these quiet miles with my memory, Seeking a silence that I have not known.

    The outside world is hurried, sharp, and loud, A restless noise that I must navigate; My feet, a path of steady steps I’ve vowed, paved by the feeling of your steady gaze.

    This is not running; it is a slow design, to build your presence in the air I tread. I seek the curve where my sure footing’s fine, where my mind and humble heart are fed.

    The path becomes the current we once shared, The easy tide where Intellect takes flight and flows, where every thoughtful word was always aired, a shining beacon as the long night grows.

    My soles connect as I walk the earth’s floor, each chosen stride to find the missing part, toward the anchor I am searching for, the juice and zest and vibrant, sustaining art.

    So I embrace this tender, guiding truth: My soul’s true north, my peace, I find with you—My constant Geography of Calm.

  • Eyes That Wonder

    The Mindful Mile is where the real love story begins.

    Today, I walked with the deliberate focus of a devoted admirer. I knelt beside a patch of moss, realizing it wasn’t merely green texture but a miniature, saturated forest—a velvet canopy built for creatures I can only imagine. I paused at the sound of a crow, whose coarse call was not a nuisance, but the magnificent, brassy voice of a wild sentinel proclaiming the day.

    This Earth is never subtle. It presents its full, magnificent bounty in every square foot, demanding nothing but our attentive gaze. The light on the asphalt, the persistent root that cracked the sidewalk, the cloud cover that promises rain—these aren’t obstacles or backdrops. They are acts of immense, quiet creation.

    The greatest awe is found not in seeking the exotic, but in truly committing to the familiar. When you walk, when you slow down, the ordinary becomes the beloved. You realize the profound miracle is not finding beauty in the world, but recognizing that the world is beauty.

  • Holding On to October, One Last Week!

    You know that feeling when you’re at a party and you know it’s technically time to leave, but the DJ just put on your favorite song and you’re suddenly fluent in the art of “one more dance”?

    Yeah, that’s me with October right now.

    This is the last week, folks. The final frontier. And I’m not ready to say goodbye to crunchy leaves, pumpkin spice everything (don’t judge!), or the absolute genius of a good cozy sweater. I’m currently lobbying Mother Nature for a month-long extension and a re-vote on the whole “seasons” concept. Who needs winter when you have perfectly crisp air and leaves that look like they’re on fire?

    My Mindful Mile today involved some serious reconnaissance. I was on the lookout for any rogue orange leaves to bring home and display prominently, possibly under a “Do Not Disturb Until December” sign. I even considered whispering sweet nothings to a few stubbornly vibrant trees, just in case positive affirmations can keep their chlorophyll going. (Spoiler: They probably can’t, but a girl can dream!)

    I’m pretty sure my neighbors saw me trying to gently coax a particularly beautiful crimson leaf to “just hold on a little longer!” while simultaneously sipping a lukewarm cider. It’s fine. They’re used to my methods.

    So, if you see me walking around with a giant net trying to catch falling foliage, or humming Halloween tunes in mid-November, just know I’m fighting the good fight.

    We’ve got seven precious days left to savor every single bit of this glorious month. Let’s make them count!

  • Walking Down Memory Lane

    I’m taking a very different kind of walk today—one down memory lane—and in a split second, it takes me right back to mid-1998.

    I had just started university, and my first living situation was… challenging. I was staying with a lady who was, without question, the strictest human I had ever met (and unduly so!).

    In a desperate search for a temporary, gentler place to land, I became roommates with my brother’s friend’s younger sister. She was new in school, living with her older sister, and this simple, chance encounter marked the beginning of a friendship that quickly blossomed into sisterhood.

    Since that day, our journey has been filled with countless happy moments, and we always find a reason to laugh at the silliest things.

    Our bond is built on a shared history that runs deep: memories of listening to the memorable tales told by my now late grandma, and the hilarious midnight missions sneaking into my mum’s room to make a giant bed on the floor. We even have our own absolutely ridiculous songs and comical names we use for each other.

    I truly don’t think I have another friend who cracks me up as much as you do. Through even the toughest seasons, we have always found that reason to laugh.

    Thank you for being the most constant, joyful, and hilarious part of my life for the past 26 years. You are proof that family isn’t always about blood—it’s about the deep, unbreakable bonds we choose.

    Cheers to Ore Mi, my forever sister and friend as she adds another brilliant year today! I love you, my rodo ❤️