I am from Busy. I am from multiple lanes of traffic and well-timed lights t the intersections. I am from a full schudule, no breaks. I am from comfort in chaos, but my therapist tells me sometimes it’s good to leave my comfy home of busyness and land.

Park.

Sit.

Breathe.

Breathe in quietude and all the discomfort of a stationary body. And mind. Especially mind. Especially difficult, mind.

I have received formal counseling and a strong suggestion to be less of a person of doing and more of a person of being. To visit the foriegn shores of downtime, the exotic locale of a clear calendar.

I’m still shopping the travel brochures for those places, not sure how to calm the constant, but the stock photos, all glossy in their stillness, look nice.