I have some work to do, but I limit myself per day to preserve my sanity. I’m sure my creatives can attest to this maddening cycle of self-doubt and anxiety. Right now, I sit with wine while making casual glances at the oh-so drool-worthy cuisine in one of my favorite local magazines. I kind of feel like a ritzy local. Kind of.
So, naturally what feels like a Sunday is actually a Monday and on Sunday’s I would normally be questing my toon in a game that I escape to every now and then (this little gamer girl over here!). I didn’t last night and I am not now because I am pleasantly and surprisingly inspired to empty my colorful thoughts in digital ink, pressed into a format that, well, hopefully reaches the best of my readers.
This is the open-thoughts part of my blog- a rarety, at that.
Lately I have been longing for a scene much different from the last 9 months. All I wanted was a clear blue oceanscape with sea water as my perfume and comforting sand as my footstool. Within the last week or so, my mind had detoured into the carefree west, driving until pavement turn to dirt and hiking up mountains so high that all you know is what’s infront of you. It litterally stops your breath, breaks your concentration, forces you to feel the penetrating glow of natures swan song. It’s really an invigorating effect.
So, because I have the most amazing husband ever, that’s just we did for four days. We explored the untouched parts of Maine and all of its spendor. We ate authentic seafood from places off the beaten path, we hiked up mountains and hills and rocks that lined the ocean, ate wild raspberries and blueberries and just lived. We live. This is the importance of where we are now verus where we were a year ago.
This evening, home is so present. Its form is real and alive and welcoming and branching out. I love where I live. I wish this for everyone in life. It is so important.