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After Rainer Maria Rilke - Go to the Limits of your Longing

"I'm expecting a package that's quite delayed" When the wind hits you it slows you down. At first I fight to move faster, still. I apply more pressure with my legs. I remain in an automatic state. I press my effort against the obstacle. I press my lungs into the wind. But what of it? That's when I double back into the music. That's when I return to my body. I feel the sharp stings of snow pellets driven into my naked scalp. I feel the cold stripping my legs. I feel the shifting of weight from left to right. And then, the movement forward. Then the grace. No idea if I was moving fast or slow, but then that wasn't exactly the point of finding grace.