|from my art journal with Berry poem. 6.5.16, (gesso, gouache paints, stabilo pencil, acrylic paint)|
Each day I walk outside. I thought it was the walking that mattered so, but realize that it is the walking and that I do so outside. It is the communing with nature that is particularly centering. There's a poem by wendell Berry, The Peace of Wild Things, in which the speaker tells us how he comes "into the peace of wild things/who do not tax their lives with forethought/of grief." Grief is taxing.
I walk each day to remember my small place within it and to feel the nowness of living. Some days, I remember that this is enough.