I’ve been trying to remember what it was like to be a kid — to remember what I played at and imagined and loved. I want to see if the things I started out loving provide clues to how to bring those playful feelings (free, light, uninhibited, unworried about outcome, adaptable, unrestricted) back into my way too serious life.
The great thing about traveling is having the chance to be in an unfamiliar environment where you see and experience things you don’t normally see at home and interact with different people. So one would think that the good thing about coming home would be the familiarity and the comfort and convenience found there. Which is why I was surprised to find that when I came home, things actually looked different to me.
I watched Java walk past me for the tenth time as I listened to the rhythmic sound of paw, toenail drag; paw, toenail drag. Then silence. Java stands, nose to the wall, staring. I wait for her to whisper “open sesame” and for the wall to comply and let her through. But soon the paw,…
Ride like the wind!
Luke and I
are more of a zephyr
(a gentle wind)
with only brief moments of turbulence…