Winter Solstice is well behind us and Imbolc has slipped away. We’re now more than half way through February (and I don’t care what Elliot said about April, February really is the cruelest month) and no one can deny that the light is growing. Today, thanks to a nasty trusts & estates issue, I spent more time than I’d normally have chosen with my ancestors. And as much as they kept bugging me, I kept coming back to: my Fitbit.
Do you have one of these? They’re these devices that you wear, either as a bracelet or as a cute little hook-type thing on your bra, or in your pocket, and they count how many steps you take every day. 10,000 steps is the Holy Grail. And I kept coming back to my Fitbit because it was my way of saying to my ancestors, “You’re not the boss of me.” Or, in other words, I may come from people as dysfunctional as the day is long, but, look, just look, it’s only 7:00 and I’ve already got 4,500 steps. It’s 4:00 and I’m going to walk the 4 blocks to the pharmacy instead of having them deliver and, well, there’s another 3,000 steps, even if they were taken in the freezing wind.
I think that, especially now, we all need some kind of a Fitbit. Some kind of way to measure progress and convince ourselves that we’re not mired in our ancestors’ winters.
How do you count your steps?
Picture found here.