Walk

Now it so happens that my apartment is just a couple of blocks away from Rittenhouse Square, a large public park in the middle of one of Philadelphia’s busiest, most upscale commercial areas. On a nice enough day the Square is teeming with people (and as well it should be, since it’s quite beautiful there). Personally, though, I prefer the days when it’s just a little to grey, a little too hot, a little too cold. The days when most people do not think to go to the park. On those days, the crowds are small, the background noise is dimmer, and I can pretend for just a little while that it’s all there just for me.

Of course I know better and after a moment or two I’ll pass a jogger, or a couple walking their dog, and the illusion fades. But it’s enough that I can finally feel like I’m alone with my thoughts. It’s enough to clear my head, and to help me see straight again.

*

The leaves are still green outside, but it’s clear already that autumn is coming soon enough. The fever of summer is about to break, and then things will cool down just a little and they’ll change just a little, too. Like they always do.

Autumn is always the most interesting season for me.

*

I am reminded, as the seasons march on, of responsibilities that I’ve ignored for too long. I have obligations which are coming due, and I find, yet again, that I do not have the luxury of short-term thinking. This time is critical (a patently ridiculous statement-- all times are critical). I have no choice but to take the long view.

*

When I was younger, I thought I knew exactly how things would go. That’s a folly of youth. More than ever, I think I’ll be completely surprised by how the story turns out.

*

I cannot remember a time in my life when I kept normal hours, or felt that it was natural for me to do so. I am most comfortable with a twenty hour day followed by another ten of sleep. Twenty-four hours is far too short a time to squeeze it all in; as a consequence, I can feel dissatisfied and unproductive with a day despite not having stood still for more than a few minutes at a time from the moment I awoke.

People talk about all the things they would buy if they only had the money. There are many things I would like to own, but my only desire to be rich lies in my desperation to finally, at long last, set my own schedule.

*

I will say this much, and this much only for what I left behind: sometimes I do miss open spaces.

*

Here is a simple truth: we are all slaves to something. Money, mostly. Family, religion, mental illness, addiction, and the past are also popular choices, and at one point or another I’ve dealt with each. Almost everyone in the world, everyone you see, everyone you meet, is a slave, including me.

But someday I’m going to be free.

*

I would never have guessed as a child how much I would someday come to love Sunday mornings.

*

At least once a day we should all sit down someplace outside, where it’s quiet and peaceful, close our eyes, and just breath in and out for a few minutes. I think every day we go without that quiet moment pushes us a little farther away from our real selves.

*

Perhaps-- and I say this begrudgingly-- there’s more power, more gravitas to be found in a tragic end. Just perhaps. But I for one have always believed that the very best of endings is always “Happily Ever After”. Don’t you think that’s so?