I’ve logged more experience than most with simplicity and the complexity you discover inside simplicity, minimalism and asocial behavior, endurance and landscape.
Here is the truth: I think some deep wisdom inside me (a) sensed the stress, (b) was terrified for me, and (c) gave me something new and hard to focus on in order to prevent me from lapsing into a despair coma — and also to keep me from having a jelly jar of wine in my hand.
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While people all over the world
chanted and prayed for a miracle,
we stood in the woods with binoculars
trained on a pair of bluebirds
flitting from branch to branch,
tiny chests puffed out
in the chill morning air. And for those
few moments, mud frozen
beneath our feet and not a single
golden leaf stirring on the beech tree,
I did not think about a virus entering
my body after turning a doorknob
or shaking someone’s hand or touching
my own face. It was as if those two
bluebirds became parts of us freed
at last from worry — our tufted, lighter
bodies now lifting higher and higher,
like words meant for whatever god
might still be listening.