As mentioned last post, I’m fond of walking outdoors. Usually this is somewhat suburban, but once in a while I’m in a beautiful place, enjoying nature. I did this for years, before my divorce, trying to calm myself, quell inner turmoil, and have a quiet moment alone. These days, the “moment alone” isn’t a problem—the cat is a great companion, but not much of a conversationalist—but I still enjoy walking outside, airing out my brain, and getting away from the screen. (The big screen, anyway. The little screen sings to me, if prodded correctly.)
All of this was a set habit, long before I read more recently that demons hate fresh air, but the point is a good one, and worth sharing. When I feel stuck, a walk helps. Even if the solution doesn’t present itself mid-walk—it usually does—I feel better for the fresh air.
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