Some people buy a new suitcase or another lens for their camera. Others may map out a rigorous itinerary that includes both city highlights and out-of-the-way adventures. However, when I plan to travel, I learn a language.
While out walking, I often pause and take a quick snap of the steps I find. They may be wooden and wore or concrete and crumbling. Each has a story to tell. Each has a purpose. Each reminds me of life.
Today marks five weeks. Five weeks since I stopped washing my hair.
“I’m not longer washing my hair,” my loving other half stated. I wasn’t sure if it was a way of keeping his introverted self in a pseudo-permanent lockdown by resisting basic hygiene. Luckily, that wasn’t the case and he made a pretty convincing one with his explanation.
They say that the thoughts, the wants, and the desires that have a hook in you. That won’t fade with time. Those are the ones to pursue. Those are the ones pointing you to your dreams, your north stars or at least something to do with your time. Today, I did a thing to release my inner painter.