Something as simple as walking to school: green spiral notebook in arm, pencil, eraser, two pens in my front pocket. Movement in natural time. Not too fast or slow. Waiting for the traffic light to change to red so I could walk across as the people in their cars looked out to the strangeness of someone not driving down the whirring intersection. I was a school kid again. Have to remember to this again soon. I like the presence of being on foot. Simple things matter in the tumult of the everyday.
Every step begins with a journey.
