things are turning and churning and changing and it is in these uncertain times that I remind myself of what is certain, what is constant, what grants me the same time and time again. It comes back, again and again, to pottery, art, a lump of clay, God, nature, running, writing, and reading. when everything else overwhelms me, these my rocks sustain me, and i move through this city of mine lightly, cautiously, knowingly.
i think singing at the top of my lungs with all the pathos of someone in their twenties for an hour in the car each day is just as cathartic as running.
traffic is becoming less scary with each hour and 15 minute commute.
work is hard. but i am stepping up, defending myself, finding the joys where they lay, and moving through it as well as i can.
my body yearns for a run, despite the hour of singing a day. a long run in hot weather, along a forgotten path away from all these people.
it also yearns for a cave to hibernate the winter away- for unending hours to devote to my art without needing to stop for food or sleep or money earning.
it is in these periods, of immense change and being stretched out in a thousand million ways, that i learn the most. so i welcome it with a pliable heart, and a steady gaze forward, and remember that even this, all of this, will pass too quickly one day.
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