Then I remember we're going to be on vacation. ( Or on holiday. Whatever.) Time to sketch. Time to talk to sheep. Time to canoe on a lake with a poetic name. Time for our socks to dry. Time to sit on ancient rocks and wonder who put them there. Time to become something of an educated expert on comparative clotted creme.
Walking. Putting one foot in front of the other. Again and again. I heard my yoga teacher in my head, saying, "Don't forget to breathe. Slow, deep breaths. Watch the breath."
High on oxygen.
No comments:
Post a Comment