I am writing this outside on the patio, half in the shade, feet in the sun, looking over at my cat occasionally as she explores the world. She’s on a leash, but I’m not attached to the other end. We’re working on trust.
I love to watch Hillary outside. She is very quiet, unlike in the apartment when she sometimes runs around screaming like a banshee. I suppose I might too if I was a wild animal in a one bedroom apartment. Oh right, I am a wild animal in a one bedroom apartment. At least I’m not reliant on her to let me out once in a while, though maybe it’d be better for both of us if I was.
I’m taking a second day off (in a row!) after the craziness of this weekend. Derbs, work, derbs for three days straight, and next weekend is all work again. But it’s in the mountains, so it will be good as well as exhausting.
I’m thinking a lot about the usual things: veganism, minimalism, writing, how I want to simplify my life and do more with the time I have. Instead of that, I go on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter. I don’t spend enough time outside on this lovely patio, watching my lovely cat. I want to make all these changes all at once, to give up everything extraneous, and focus only on what matters: health, writing, relationships. It’s depressing to think of everything that needs to be changed–give up oreos, eat more salads, less Twitter, more poetry, solve world hunger then gender inequality.
I’m trying to remember to take small steps, to give myself credit where credit is due. For taking time off to recuperate. For taking more time when that time wasn’t enough. For eating my vegetables. For going outside.
In one of my favorite poems, Mary Oliver asks, “what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” Maybe I should write a follow up poem to answer, “and how?”