Trade the Roads for the Trails, Every Once in a While
You might come out changed, even if it won’t last long.
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Silence is the best therapy. Or is it the forest?
Out in the city, the noise never stops. The chase never ceases.
We worry so much about anything and everything. We search for happiness, things, persons to love us back, lost time, forgotten thoughts.
We keep comparing ourselves to others, wondering if we are enough, do enough, live enough, love enough or at all.
The world keeps spinning and we can’t stop. Not even for a minute. If we would, we’d have to admit to ourselves that none of it matters.
Out in the woods, the silence is rarely touched by anything but the wind. It’s a different kind of chase.
Worry feels stupid when you lay it at the root of an old fir tree. Search becomes useless when you find yourself so little. Comparing yourself to anyone is fruitless.
And while the world keeps spinning, you inadvertently stop. You don’t even need to admit to yourself that none of it matters. Mattered.
Silence and clarity mate and you’re born out of it, again. Hopefully, this time you’ll get it right.
Your steps will barely swish through the green grass tucked in fallen leaves.
As you go down, returning to “civilization”, you’ll encounter other people coming up, searching for silence and clarity.
They look so different but don’t let the comparisons take over you once again.
The cars that brought them there could make them different from you. Their cars, now, and the wood on their coffins, a tad later down the road.
If you realize this, and you somehow manage to remember it, you’ll come out of your walk taller than the fir trees you left behind. Taller and humbler.
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