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Trade the Roads for the Trails, Every Once in a While
You might come out changed, even if it won’t last long.
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.
