I had the first cantaloupe of the season. It was a small one. One I could play catch with. I had to rub it. Feel between the grooves. I lifted it up to my nose and smelled. I couldn’t smell anything. That didn’t stop my joy. I walked to the patch, and my happiness didn’t dim. I felt ease in my soul. Day two of no social media at all has been interesting. I’m immersing myself in letting the land speak to me. Speak it will.
I’m enjoying just feeling free from consumerism and comparison. The more I was on social media, the more I wanted things. I wanted what others had. Right now, I’m taking Hemingway’s cue with my computer and its keys. It’s just us. Nothing else. I don’t know if I will miss the friends I’ve made through Instagram, or if I will return.
I’m returning to my roots. The land is feeding my mind, body and soul right now. Walking to the line in Old Navy flip flops to hang out clothes. Letting the sun be my clothes dryer. Letting the wet grass sink into my toe beds. Smelling the freshly cut grass. Let’s call it eau du jardín. I’m taking out the old hula-hoop and taking it for a spin. Never got the hang of it. I still like to twirl it on my arms pretending to be a circus performer. A little chameleon in my own mind.
Letting childhood pleasures take hold. When I started taking life too seriously. Forget how to laugh. My face took on a permanent scowl. I’m not saying I won’t have days where I may feel like I’m missing something, but sometimes God does for us, what we are unable to do for ourselves. My own search for joy in what is already mine not in what is sought.
from R's rue https://ift.tt/DqhGXtT
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