Spring

I love that it is warm enough now to be outside. to talk, to eat, to read, to walk leisurely to class, to take a nap on the lawn... I am so thoroughly fulfilled by real things like grass and sunshine and little flowers poking up everywhere.

I met someone this week who told me that they "used to camp, but decided it was too much work." This is a bizarre concept for me. For one thing, the hard work is part of what makes living in the wilderness worthwhile for me--I like to earn my pesto-pasta. and for another thing, I feel at my most real when I'm outside. I just can't get that buzzing feeling in my veins from anything I can do in a building. How could it be that you can prefer watching a movie to paddling a canoe?

Of course, I know that such people exist and are in no way less 'right' about life than me. Something I'm trying to come to terms with: it is possible to live a fulfilled and generous life with an approach entirely different from my own!

When I think about it, that's really beautiful. The only limits to the good that can exist in this world are the limits that we put there.

What if we don't?