This missive is coming to you late, not because I procrastinated (for once) but because...well, I don't really know. For some reason, I simply couldn't send it out. I tried and I tried and I got frustrated until I thought to myself, "This really isn't important enough to get upset over." So, I wrote this and went to bed.
In a letter to Russel Vernon Hunter, the great Georgia O’Keeffe1 wrote:
I have done nothing all summer but wait for myself to be myself again.
If I thought I resonated strongly with her words last summer, when I first stumbled upon the quote, well, I resonate doubly so this summer. For I have done little. Less than little. Not quite nothing, however.
The heat, as I have complained already, provided a perfect excuse for me to not venture into the local forests, whether to make photographs or, more importantly, to simply breathe. Oh, but to breathe in the fresh air of a pine forest, to feel my mood shift with every exhale, to feel the cool summer breeze as it moves around the trees and through their leaves, reaches me, passes by.
I’m tired of sitting in the air-conditioned house, only sitting outside when the temperatures are to my liking. Why do I allow myself to remain in my comfort zone, when I know it’s better to break down the walls, stretch my wings, and fly?
This is my last week of freedom, so far as I am currently aware2. Roughly seven more days of doing whatever I please with each 24-hour period. Since returning from Japan and quitting my job, I have done little with my life. Mostly scrolling and rotting away on the couch. For way too long, this has been my normalized routine. I’ve avoided the hard work in favor of ambling by.
Each time I think too much about this, I tell myself I will change my habits for the better. Clearly I have yet to.
So, allow this to be a singular step in the right direction. Rather than let this week pass by as the last few dozen have, I will take advantage of every minute possible. I will squeeze from each moment as much as I can manage.
What better way to start than a walk in the woods, searching for spiritual things, searching for myself?
Tomorrow, changes will be made. They must be made. And they will be made in the woods, where I have so often gone to heal.
I had come inside from sitting by the pool, talking with my neighbor as she cooled off from the heat, when we were greeted by rain. A short, gone as soon as it came sort of storm. Enough to whet the earth’s appetite but not satiate. Certainly not enough to bring my cucumbers back from their untimely slumber.
While I organized my desk — a long overdue task that is still not complete — I watched out the window, the rain battering against it. Temptation to sit on the deck and allow the water to soak me. Why didn’t I?
— C
If you’re unfamiliar with O’Keeffe, shame on you. Watch this video immediately. ↩
I’m waiting to hear back from my new job on whether they will have me start on the 26th or wait until I return from Montana. Hopefully the latter. ↩