I am reading both Emerson and Aristotle to rebalance my thinker.
Usually I can read myself out of a funk, especially with a guy like Emerson, who is all exhortation.
My knees are swollen and feel like ill-fitting hinges, especially going down the stairs. I'm taking my ibuprophen and something stronger at night. And I'm trying to refrain from being angry that on such beautiful days I can't be walking three miles or so. The stiffness makes me feel incapable generally.
So in cases like this, you have to bring in the crisp, non-emotional Aristotle. And there he is at the top of the page. So, I ask myself, what do you have to complain about when:
-- you've already a pair of walking shoes that don't hurt you.
-- you've already raised over $2,700.
-- formal training walks don't start until later this month.
-- you don't have cancer.
I guess what Aristotle might be trying to tell me is "suck it up."