As I attempted to accomplish the assorted tasks of a weekend, I was struck by the volume of people outside all around me. People carrying flowers, people sitting in cafes, people toting bags of green market fruit, people with bikes and balls. It's not so surprising, really. It was a sunshine and fresh air kind of day, one of the first real spring days we've seen, after a winter we couldn't seem to see past.
I finished my errands and returned home. There were to be other walks to do other things, but at the center were things that needed to be accomplished. No particular focus on recreation, just too many things to be done with never really enough time to do them.
As I came inside, I wondered about all those people enjoying the weather. Was I one of them once? Did I used to have the time and money for brunch-ing in cafes? Did I once take the sunshiney morning to mean that an outdoor activity should be planned? Has my life become so full of to-do's that there's no room any more for let's-do's? Am I so busy covering the bases that I have forgotten to enjoy uncovering the seasons?
There was fresh air, but in the context of getting to and from home. There was time outside, but only alternated with time inside. I saw the nice day, but mostly from the window I looked out while doing laundry and helping with a school project. On a day like this, I wonder, are we sometimes living inside out?
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