Window into my right now
I'm sitting on my swinging bench on my front porch. I can feel the late day sun cutting through the trees and landing on misc parts of my body. A half arm here, a knee there. My laptop is in my lap. I hear more breeze than I feel, which makes the sun feel hotter and more oppressive. I can see the shadow of the bench swing's supporting chain on my hand. My shirt is blue. My shorts are purple. In my forward field of view I see a redbud tree with countless seed pods hanging off. A single echinacea flower head is rising above my old split rail fence, while the rest have fallen over to rest on the grass. Oh, there's the breeze. It made it to me this time. With it i can see the redbud leaves fluttering individually and jumping along with their branch-mates.
It hurts to leave things out. I can also talk about the firewood piled up in front of me. The red rocking chair. My fears about upcoming obligations. My self-criticisms about why I'm doing this at all right now or if this is really "me". All I know is that when I typed about the redbud and the breeze I felt lighter, and when I feel pressure to talk about everything I feel heavier. Those redbud moments are nice but also evasive - where I'm not "trying" to accomplish something but also not operating from a place of "nothing matters so I'm going to pretend I don't give a fuck." I do give a fuck, but I'm going to use that fact to open the box rather than close it.