“Saying it’s a dry heat is like saying a pistol whipping is a dull pain.” Me
I don’t particularly enjoy going out there in the middle of a 90-degree day, and extending myself to the limits of what I am capable of.
The sun is hot. The air, very dry. There are rattlesnakes.
It’s not the same as enjoying iced tea on my patio. The word pleasure doesn’t come to mind.
There is a satisfaction though, in being out there alone exerting myself in conditions most people take care to avoid. I explore my mental resilience.
Maybe it’s my inner Jew – a daily nod to my ancestors who spent four decades wandering the desert after the big eviction by Pharaoh.
A little self-inflicted punishment so that, by comparison, no other physical task I take on during a typical week will be as difficult.
Being alone, uninterrupted, to work out the struggles between my ears soothes my busy mind.
A daily reminder to the sun that I won’t be bullied.
Last night’s bean burrito.
The sounds of bees, alligator lizards, hawks, and other critters is a nice break from sirens, ringtones, and garbage trucks. Even the wind chimes in.
Plenty of excuses not to. More are the reasons to show up… Jhciacb
If you are not already a subscriber, please scroll up and do so. Tell your friends about me — about what happens when I push the STOP button on the blender in my head. Oh, and there’s this from Billy Bragg and Joe Henry. Enjoy!