Running home today - it was that perfect light. You know what I’m talking about: All bright and dark and surprised in between. I ran past a house I love, it looks like it belongs in Gilmanton, NH. White with peeling clapboards and the porch lit up in patterns from the lowing light. It made me look twice, and on the second glance I saw there was a man there, sitting on a chair reading with his feet up. He had a long beard and dark skin. He was patterned like the porch and I wanted to take ask if I could take his photo. Frame him on the porch of this perfect house. I didn’t, of course.
I don’t want to keep stopping when I’m a little tired on a run or a climbing hold is seemingly out of reach. I don’t want to stay in a low level job because it’s easy and I don’t have to interact with too many people. I hate that I avoid calling people on the phone for personal reasons.
Here’s to doing what we’re afraid to do.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
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