What it takes to feel alive.
I crunch my way through pine cones and sticks—feeling conspicuous in what seems to be complete isolation. Just walking and emptying my mind of the toxic smallness that clutters my life.
No plans. No cell phone. No blinking advertisements that demand attention. No details that dillute the meaning in the world and myself.
My solitary walk is care-free and filled with satisfaction until I sense a presence. Hidden all around me they breathe short puffs and watch me. Soundless. They are as alive as wide eyes allow. My foot collapses leaves as big as their bodies. The instict to survive motivates a few to scuttle beyond detection. I cannot see them but I feel the wonder in their hidden eyes— the fear that hushes them is all I need to feel alive.