On change (or the lack thereof)

There’s a level of pain and anguish that is necessary for profound change. You don’t give up smoking after a pack a day for fifteen years because of a television commercial. You don’t begin a movement journey after a decade of couch-based deconditioning because of a post on social media. A relative low in order to get the shock to change.

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On quiet transitions (or the end of second year)

I’ve spent the past few days with family in New Hampshire and the previous week trying to settle back down and into the Coopersburg, PA home after the explosive bit of violence the prior weekend. I’ve been trying to relax and unwind to reset after that experience. To the point that I delayed coming up to NH because I didn’t want to rush out of PA; I wanted something resembling resolution before leaving our third roommate alone there over the long Memorial Day Weekend.

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On necessary atrophy (or 8 days to Step One)

I want to move. I want to spend the day outside with the glorious Florida spring soaking up the rays of sun before I leave for Pennsylvania. I want to lift the heavy things with my partner. I want to set up my slackline next to my hammock and casually move between the two as I watch the sun trace a path across the sky.

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