There’s one reason I will leave the apartment without having brushed my teeth first and that’s mist. If it’s a misty morning when I wake up, all plans previously made are shot, and I’m out the door with terrible morning breath and granules of sleep stubbornly tucked into the corners of my eyes.
This morning when I tumbled out of bed, and discovered there was the remnants of a low hanging mist outside, I felt my heart break a little. I should have been up at 6.23am instead of nearly 9am. I should have been out to catch the spiderwebs before the dew evaporated. I should have I should have I should have.
Still, I didn’t waste what mist was still there, and catapulted myself outside with my camera. I walked the trails I’d already taken a hundred times before, but you wouldn’t think it to see the way I stopped every few paces to stand, slack jawed and silent, breathing in the cool air thickly scented with fir, and the irresistible tang of freshly cut wood. I never take it for granted that we live on the edge of the forest and can be with the trees as soon as we step out of the apartment block.
I struggle massively with racing thoughts (thoughts that won’t be quiet), another symptom of my bi-polar disorder and going into the forest is one of the only ways that I can actually calm my mind down. Though it isn’t easy. I have to remind myself to breathe and to notice what’s around me instead of getting trapped in my head.
As soon as I manage to break away from the chaos in my head, I notice everything…like the last of the dew decorated spiders webs, the catkins breaking out, the illuminated bark of the birch trees. I think to myself ‘I want to notice everything all the time…’ then the chaos will start up again, and I’ll lose my ‘sight.’
But I know what true freedom tastes like and I know I can have it. Another chance to hold onto it is always just a moment away.