I arrived in Jacksonville Florida on June 10. As the weeks have passed, I’ve wondered: where has my “oomph” gone?

It’s so quiet and peaceful here (even though work is hectic).

I have thought about writing… or drawing… or posting… but I usually end up just going to the beach.

There, I walk. Or sit. Or swim. Or watch the birds… Or people.

Two nights ago, after dusk, I watched someone release paper lanterns into the sky… They drifted out past the surf winds, towards the apparently awaiting military helicopter, and eventually disappeared into the atmosphere or oblivion. Beyond words.

It was okay that it was too dark to see “who did this???”. It didn’t matter. It was beautiful.

I was able to just watch and enjoy, rather than quickly whipping out the phone to take a photo.

This morning, I wondered why I felt so content to just “be”. For me, this is a new experience.

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Tonight, some words arrived.

Funny, since I have been here I have felt so fat and happy. Yet the words describe experiences that lead to “diagnoses”. I chuckle. I’m the one sitting in the sand and shells. If that’s madness, call me a Hatter.

For days and daze
I have felt the quiet of peace.

Free from compulsion to
act
speak
or conclude.

And I have viewed that peace
from the crest of tactile
…stillness…
as an absence.

I have felt
…'””‘…PEACEFUL..'””‘…
… not “driven”.

Is this what we mistake for boredom?

How do we balance?
How do we swing the bi-polar arc?
Sweep up out of the valleys of the numbness of depression
And sail over the peaks of WILL.
The cycles roll despite (yet not in spite of) our yearning for equilibrium

This is being human.
This is the lesson of the body.
This is why we have come here.

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