Pulled over, Route 9, 8am, foggy

Fog is something I've recently been fascinated with. As I write this I'm sitting inside a morning cloud, in my car, awed by beauty and the unknown. As I bring myself to wake up as I drive, I suddenly find myself floating through a sea of color-eating mist - changing the greens oranges and yellows of the trees into muted, pale imitations, save for the brief instant that I get to glimpse them when I get close enough. That tiny bit allowed to be revealed at any given moment has its own mystery and almost sensual quality - like the flash of a naked ankle of a fully covered woman in a burka.

Fog can feel like you're going to fall off the planet, somehow falling forever in a void of white mist. I saw a road sign that said 'Right Lane Ends' and immediately imagined a car driving over a cliff into the unknown, and somehow flying on like a balloon let go from a child's hand. 

The mist and fog clouds a familiar landscape in mystery, begs me to ask what's around the next bend, the next hill or valley. I have to say I love what weather can do to a familiar landscape - part of the inexhaustible beauty and uniqueness of nature. This spot, this moment, will not hold the same secrets tomorrow, nor will it be any less beautiful.

I like how fog can change your perspective, how it can change what's hidden and what's seen, like a skilled photographer's composition. I've seen fog turn mountains into islands, trees into ghosts and curves of a road into a magical path. 

I've seen fog spilling out of a graveyard on Halloween so creepily I avoided driving over the mist in fear of disturbing the dead souls within it. Fog often makes me think of death - not in a way which evokes fear but maybe one of peace. I imagine death could be like approaching a foggy curve in the road, its edges just blurred to oblivion, and the trip around the bend is known to no one but somehow is attractively serene. I can only hope that when I die I am greeted with such a beautiful sight.

remembering not to worry

The rain today seems to complement my energy level, not very violently strong but deliberate and tired. I had a lot to accomplish today and didn't quite fit in all of it. Sometimes that's how the day goes, though. Accepting that my to-do lists are always impossibly long is helpful when I really begin to worry about getting everything done. 

I recently figured out that I have a procrastination problem that involves feeling overwhelmed. If I feel overwhelmed then I also feel paralyzed and can't start anything because of the associated worries about getting everything else on the list done. That, in turn, allows my to-do list only to grow scarier and scarier. So I've been trying not to acknowledge the overwhelmed feeling and just press forward towards accomplishing things. I vow to keep working on something all day, to keep moving, writing, cleaning, reading, whatever it is until it comes to the point that I can cross something off the 'big list'. 

I have a lot rolling around in my head, so physically writing down and crossing items off lists certainly helps to quiet the voice that's asking me what I've already forgotten to do. My memory is a direct cause for anxiety and I compensate by using devices to assist my memory. I did notice this week while driving that I was recalling memories easily when I was relaxed- and they were memories I hadn't touched on in quite a while. I do believe in attention restoration theory and maybe that's all I really need - a little more calm and free thinking. I think I'm enjoying journaling, too, for that reason because it gives me a moment to focus and recall the thoughts on events of the day.

Good Day sunlight

Good-day sunlight 

Id like to say how truly bright you are 

You dont know me but I know you 

Youre my favorite star 

Follow you I will so lets get moving 

Who needs shelter when the mornings coming?  

Absolutely theres no one 

Who needs shelter from the sun?  

Not me, no. not anyone. 

By your clock the cock rooster crows 

Then off to work where everybody goes 

Slow, but eventually they get there 

Picking up the day shift back where all left off 

Confined and pecking at relationships 

You know its only a worthless piece of shit 

Who needs shelter when the mornings coming? 

 Absolutely theres no one 

Who needs shelter from the sun?  

Not me, no. not anyone.

 Id sleep it all away but the sun wont let me 

Id miss those lovely days of summer 

Good-day sunlight 

Id like to say how truly bright you are 

You dont know me but I know you 

Youre my favorite.