When I am in the city I am obsessed. Obsessed with what I’m wearing, what I’m doing, who I am being. I need more. I don’t have enough. I have so little. I’m always low on gas, almost out of make-up, never having enough clothes to look as cute as the girl next to me. My style is so blah. Maybe it’s time for a new cut and color. A pedicure. A manicure. A new purse to match my shoes. My house isn’t large enough. I could use a new couch. I want the premium channels on tv. I want someone else to cook for me and I don’t want to clean, either. I need a vacation.
When I am in the woods I am free. I love the sun and the breeze and the trees. When there are clouds in the sky I am so grateful every time the sun pops out. I love the sound of water trickling down the rocks. I love how you can hear the ants moving around if you are still enough. The transition from damp forest floor to rock slabs and small shrubs. I think about how glad I am to be alive. The granola bar that I usually don’t like is suddenly the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Seeing people becomes a special moment shared on Earth. A plunge into an icy pool makes my whole body warm and tingly. I am alive and I am grateful for this moment. I want this vacation to last forever.
Real Deep Shit 