Sometimes, I don’t really know what you can do except go far out into nature and just be alone with it — feel the hot gravel of the earth, both the vitality and durability of the plants but also the leaves that wither. If you look, not even that closely, everything is a reminder of cycles: beginnings and endings and in-betweens. I don’t know what you can do except get in your car and drive for a long time, before sunrise or late at night, roll down a window and listen to an old song on some station and park it by a body of water. Maybe there’s a moon encroaching on full that night and you think, curiously, about the people who have actually been there.
i love this! the part about presence is really great