Winter in (most parts of) Canada, etc.

That time of the year when the whip of the wind is at moments awakening, and full of vibrancy, and at others harsh and assaulting. A time of year where hot cocoa and popcorn becomes my favourite snack, and tea is consumed in copious amounts. Winter feels like a time of settling in, being somewhat satisfied and cozy, but also an anticipatory time; as the light slowly grows longer and longer after the winter solstice, the length of my dreams about the warm spring also grows, at moments, filled with doubt that this snow and ice will ever melt, and that the flora and fauna, which has been so frozen and hushed during these months, will never be able to blossom and grow into the abundance of late summer...

I have this crazy love - masked - hatred relationship with the winter in Ottawa (picture a happy snowglobe, singing a little happy tune, loving the flakes falling, covered on the outside in a green slime - this is the image that just came into my mind's eye) . And I should specify that I am particularly talking about my relationship with winter in Ottawa, as I'm certain the same relationship does not exist in all other areas/cities. These are things I absolutely love about winter in Ottawa. 
1. Hot Cocoa (the real homemade kind) 
2. Gatineau park cross country skiing! Either for the day or staying overnight in cozy cabins in the woods - both are so beautiful and so fun.
3. Feeling like a (crazy?) warrior on my bike 
4. Skating on 'the worlds largest skating rink' i.e. the Rideau canal, both for pleasure, and occasionally transportation
5. The immense appreciation of summer it invokes (seriously that has to count as a thing I love about winter) 
6. The relaxed and quiet pleasure of slowing down a bit, of being cozy, in big slippers, cuddling with a sweetie, or warming oneself by a fire
7. Warm soups and stews

Mmm yes, all nice things. In avoidance of listing off the reasons why winter is hard, and setting a very boring tone of negativity, I will instead just say, that physically - my body was not made for these temperatures. As a folk who appreciates a heck of a lot of outside time, and doesn't back down on that outside time (very much) in the winter, I just wish that blood would flow a bit better to my poor wee fingers and toes. I've tried the cayanne and ginger tricks - no benefitissimo (yup, just made that word up, and I'm diggin' it). 

So you might wonder about what I've been up to, what I've learned this winter thus far. Or maybe you don't wonder, and so, I say dear reader, you have the autonomy to click that little x and the top of your screen and stop reading this post. But if you're curious....

I'm excited. I love when life is exciting. Makes me feel more spark and zest. I'm working at Otesha currently, just passing the one year mark in the role of Programs Coordinator. And it's been a hoot, lots of fun rollercoastering for the organization, and I am now quite clear about my future work life with the organization, that fundamentally changed my worldview of this delicate planet we behold each day...

I'm in tour coordination mode, planning a tour of the Maritimes, looking after the programming for orientation week, and interviewing all applicants for tour. My contract with Otesha will end come May, when, I will adventure on bicycle once again! Not sure for how long, not sure exactly where but I will certainly start out on bike post - Otesha - training week to cycle around the Maritimes. 

I've got this pattern going on. It makes me feel a bit vulnerable to share it here - to you the unknown readership, but vulnerability helps me grow, so here I go. 
I can't maintain consistency for too long. This pattern holds true I think in a few different spheres of my life - work, living location, perhaps breaching into relationships too (that is the one that is scariest to admit and work on). Really, this pattern isn't inherently negative or positive I'd argue, it's just a bit of me that I need to acknowledge and potential work on it if I desire to change. Here's another way to put it: I feel uneasy when I am locked into anything for too long. Not sure what the root of the unease is, but I will find out some day perhaps. I feel like this world is so big, I am so big, and I want to continue to expand into this glorious universe and grow grow grow! 

Different people grow in different ways. Somehow I think that the growing that has felt most rapid and important has happened at moments when I was adventuring, or somewhere new, with someone new...

and I guess that's why I'm excited to finish work and sedentary life here in Ottawa, and spread my wings to fly once more.

Oh hey another thing 'bout this winter - I'm back in Carbon Debt! achem. That is, I went on a super fun cycling trip in Cuba with my dear friend Lindsay, and I've got another jaunt planned for some camping and hiking in California in March. I'm a lucky gal to have gotten/soon to get these mid-winter jolts of summer (though it's crazy how jolt like these journeys really are - planes are like a bit of a warp...) In interest of your time, and mine in fact, I'm not going to use this post to chat 'bout Cuba. But I will post some photos to get you imagining a wee bit about what it was like...

Stationary Stories

Dear blog readers, 

I've done the pokaroo kind of thing I always do when I live in the same place for a little while. I drop off the writing bandwagon. Why oh why does that written reflection time diminish in a sessile lifestyle? Sure, it hasn't disappeared, I still reflect in my journal from time to time, but my journal isn't filling up nearly as quickly as it does when I'm cycling around, when I'm visiting or seeing new landscapes, new people, myself in new light. And it's the written kind of reflection that I know my heart appreciates so much. The idea that I can open my mind and let it flow, free writing styles, out through my fingertips; it's just, well, theraputic. 

And so now it seems, rather then picking up a pen, for a reason that likely has to do with the fact that I'm so busy getting ready for my next work commitment (going to Vancouver to facilitate an Otesha team's orientation and training week) and I feel a (large) degree of some stress building up within me, it's like a desire for that therapy has turned into a downright need. Some days, my soul just needs to write. Maybe this is one of them. 

Oh, the dog days of summer. Why they are coined the 'dog' days, I'm not sure, but jeez, I love the heat, love feeling comfortable late at night, laying diagonally in a low hanging hammock  letting the charged up glare of the full moon spill down over my face, my bare arms and legs. Where I can spend time after dark, slowly walking back and forth between rain barrel and vegetable patch, slowly watering the plants I've babied since March. And summer for me is just so delicious - delicious to the point where I can sense the nutrition in it - like the vegetable that's grown in my yard has just more nutrients, and those nutrients somehow lend more flavour to your plate. Tonight I had one such meal. Slow fried garlic, onions and potatoes from the garden, dappled with sage from the front yard. A couple eggs from the farmers market, a rare treat they are, filled with more garlic, chard, kale and parsley from the front garden as well. And I just can't get enough of the delicate flavour of my perfectly ripe orange tomatoes - the big fruits which have finally turned from green to sunshine orange, and have managed to create the most gnarly and unique shape on top of themselves, that it's a project just to decide how you might choose to chop it. Mix those choppings with some garden basil, some balsamic, salt and olive oil, and the fresh juiciness of it all just insults your mouth and nose in the best way possible. 

Okay, enough trying to turn you on via food porn. Summer is also delicious in the energetic sense. People are out about, nearly nude in their dress, the air is thick, sexy even I'd say. It's just a sexy time of year I guess. 

I did kinda want to share a bit about what the heck I've been up to over and up here (down for some) in Ottawa. Since I wrote my last blog post (in January!) I've made a bit of a life here in Ottawa. I've done lots of cooking, gardening, preserving, fermenting, dancing, yoga, and work. Don't forget the work. Especially in recent weeks, Otesha has managed to occupy each spare moment of my brain power, and take up just slightly less of that in terms of my time. However, among this work, I could never manage to pass up the opportunity to host Couch Surfers, cycle tourists, dance dance dance, do a french course, go on a few camping trips, cycle in the Gatineaus, have plenty of board game parties, swim in the pond lots, ride to Kingston, ride to Montreal, do more yoga, go to two wonderful music festivals, share lot's with others about this crazy thing Otesha, and build some really beautiful connections with folks in Ottawa and maintain connections with folks beyond. Yep, busy, but pleasant.

It wasn't until this past month that I started to question the balance of things here for me. Balance. What a great word. is it actually practical? Probably? even possible? Balance to me really includes the things I mentioned above, but at a more spread out pace - so that the moments we need to pause, to breath it all in, aren't lost. 

On that note, my physical body needs to take pause. Take rest. Goodnight.

Evanescent transitions of opulent openness.

Believe it, I'm back in Ontario. Sometimes it feels real, other moments, like today, when I paused feeling the chill of the Ontario wind on my cheek, staring at my sister's horses eating their alfalfa, I felt like the past 4 months were but a dream...

I have been on a blog hiatus it seems. There were a couple times when I sat down at the sluggish computer in the library, fondly known as Kali's Cafe, at Yasodhara Ashram during December to gather together some concise reflections about my time at the Ashram. It felt too difficult to summarize the reflections, like I wouldn't be doing the experience, the emotions, the feelings, the rituals justice by writing a few words about them on this blog and launching them into the world wide Internet space.

But, for myself more then for you, it's with some sense of desperation that I want to write this message to you, the unknown reader, to let you know that yes, the month of December was formative.

So is every day and every moment that has followed it.

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In case you are curious about my whereabouts over the past while, since I last wrote to you from Victoria, BC: I cycled back to Vancouver and spent a week there immersing myself in the city - the downtown core, the east side, practicing some yoga, visiting with my coastal city friends, and even seeing an amazing Celtic music show. I then ventured via ride share across the province to the bold, beautiful and creative town of Nelson. There I reconnected with my friends whom so generously welcomed me into their home for a week. Where we cooked and cooked, attended a rally for local First Nations recognition, went the full moon celebration, met some great new people, saw the Christmas Pantomime, even went for a soak at the nearby hot springs.  All this before I dove into a solid month of Karma Yoga at Yasodhara, a time of personal self reflection, learning about Kundalini yoga, and celebration. My time at the Ashram was book ended by another trip back to Vancouver and up to Cortes Island, to refresh my heart with both the island air, and a visit with a special someone. Then, a train trip of epic proportions, from Vancouver to Toronto. What a vast and wondrous country this Canada is. 

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I'd like to share with you the reflection that I read aloud at my last evening's Satsang to the whole community at the Ashram:

"My time has come to adventure on wards, and as I reflect on my past four weeks of being here, I truly feel like I've been at one long Satsang, always "in the company of the wise". 

Some beautiful and meaningful times have been experienced for me here: my fist Satsang, hearing the words of the diving mother prayer amplifying and reverberating in the sacred and acoustically spectacular temple. Sharing and questioning openly in Karma Yogi Women's class. Practicing and opening to the Diving Light Invocation, sensing something unique and different with each time I practiced. Evening in depth conversations with the beautiful women of Budda Loca. And all of the spectacular celebrations during this Festival of Light, what a privilege. My birthday, the energetically important solstice, candle light processions, campfires, ritual, singing, gathering, celebrating. The times that we have all spent chanting mantra, singing songs and dancing have opened my soul a bit more wide. The workshops I have attended enabled me to learn and grow and explore in subtle, but important ways, I feel gratitude to have been granted the opportunity to be a part of these. 

At times, I've felt challenged in compromising ways, that I didn't like. I recognize that they are all fine and healthy challenges, sometimes teaching me a lesson, and other times no lesson being clear other then to acknowledge emotions, relax and let it go. 

I so appreciate this beautiful land, so sacred, on which we dwell. The forest - absolute magic. The water - pure gold. The mountains - awe inspiring. Here where Shakti is worshiped, empowered and made vibrant and radiant with so much light. 

Ritual has been brought back, deeper into my world and I thank you all for facilitating that. Most of all I am grateful that you've opened your spiritual and physical home to me and countless other karma yogi's and guests. You've made space for me to re discover my divinity and my connection to God. And to re acknowledge that the glow of light shines through each and everyone, all of this while reflecting on myself and my intentions. 

I'm looking forward to 2013 adventures and carrying some of the ritual and practice to my future days, while intensely cherishing each and every short beautiful moment that I have been gifted, here, now. 

I salute the Divine in you, Namaste."
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And so, I have recognized a theme or two tied to my past couple months, and I want to continue working with these in this time of transition for me. Finding the divine, and finding openness in each present moment that I have. Feeling emotions deeply, and embracing those emotions. Really listening, tuning in to what I'm feeling, my truth, and discovering what my unconscious soul is communicating. All this so that I can be full of the love that I am and glow like it too, as I flow through this beautiful life.
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"There is a craving in every individual, no matter how unaware, to experience other states of consciousness, to understand the truth about the divine, the cosmos, the universe." - Swami Radha

1 year of buyin' nothing new; next year - avoiding waste

Well, I've completed the year of buying nothing new. And despite what some might think, I didn't rush to the nearest store and buy something new. Rather, I realized all over again how satisfied I've been with the material goods I've got and have had for the past year (or longer). Of course it was a challenging experiment at times, negotiating gifts, body care products, and my "sustainable" mode of transportation which required the most bending of the commitment.

In summary, here are the things that I did end up purchasing new (not without grave contemplation):

-new bicycle helmet

-new bike tires

-new chain and cassette, twice

-new bike lube

-new pocket knife (mine sadly being forgotten on a beautiful NZ beach)

-new toothpaste (though I made plenty of my own homemade stuff too)

-new soap (made one batch from scratch!)

It seemed ironic how my sustainable mode of transport required many 'new' things that either didn't feel comfortable buying second hand, or just wasn't available second hand.

That being said, I am excited to buy new bike shorts. My current pair have been very well worn (ahem, since 2009 well worn).

It's been an exciting project and it really made me think a bit harder about every consumer purchase that I made, and I felt encouraged and determined to experiment with making my own body products and finding whatever gear I might need second hand. I often wondered if it would have been harder to buy nothing new for the year if I was living in one place.

That led me to consider the sustainability of a nomadic lifestyle, such as I've been living for the past year and half. Food choices that are made when I'm traveling immediately come to mind. Smaller quantities are more often bought, and they usually have more packaging. Purchasing smaller quantities also means that fruits and vegetables from farmers markets cannot be stockpiled and preserved in the way you can if you live in one spot. So food habits become a bit less sustainable on the road. Though, I always make a point of travelling with empty plastic bags to refill at bulk stores, and I seek out farmers markets in each new place that I visit. Not only is it a way to get delicious more sustainable food, but it is an experience of some of that places' culture. 

And modes of transportation are also less sustainable when you're traveling. Though I did chose to ride my bicycle most of the places I was exploring over the past year and half, I also took two massive flights across the pacific. Carbon debt for sure. But, whenever possible I chose trains, buses and of course my bike Poppy as a fulfilling alternative to flying over precious and interesting landscapes. Camping over the past year with all my gear packed aboard poppy meant that I became much more pleased with the simple needs of life. Food water, shelter, warmth. I didn't use nearly as much energy and water as I would have living in a house; less showers, more swimming!

So all this reflection and talk about sustainable living brings me to my next thought! What will I challenge myself with this year! Thoughts and brainstorms with my friends here on the west coast have revolved around food and around waste. After discussing with some friends recently in Victoria, we decided to watch the film The Clean Bin Project, a film we'd all heard of but never sat down to watch.

The couple in this documentary go a year without buying nothing new, and creating as little waste as possible, and they keep all their non-recyclable waste for the whole year! They end up with just a little bin of garbage each. Amazing! So, since completing my experimental year of buying nothing new, I now am going to start a year of collecting every bit of non-recyclable waste that I create, and avoiding that waste to begin with. Fun right? Anyone interested in having a bit of friendly competition with me? Whoever has the least amount of waste at the end of the year wins...?

Swollen Heart

The present is all we really know we've got. The only time we really know is for real. And so, now that I'm no longer on Cortes Island, as I process and reflect on what was: all the smells, sights, touches, emotions and deep seeded universal nudges that were felt during my time at Hollyhock, it nearly feels like a great dream, my month at Hollyhock. The kind that you remember well, even though it was experienced in the deepest longest sleep. 

It was a joyous dream, set in a magnificent location among age old trees, squealing eagles with 5 foot wing spans, where deer roam close, and apples fall from trees like the garden of Eden. Food is abundant and ever present, with much laughter, music and fellowship around. In my dream I learned to play the ukulele, I fell in love, over and over. I went within, I spread myself out. I meditated, practiced yoga, did selfless service, learned about Buddhism, stoicism, the hero's journey, the goddess and god in us all, the divine light, mindfulness.  In this 'dream' I cried a bit, felt lots of feelings, and I laughed a lot. My how great it is to laugh. 

After taking down and winterizing the entire Hollyhock site after the last workshop ended with the other volunteers and some staff, we hugged and waved goodbye to our Hollyhock family. I spent a few extra special days on Cortes with one of the other volunteers, cooking, eating, conversing and connecting, bike riding and walking near those beautiful big trees and that those beautiful and big trees. And then, I packed up my bicycle once again, loaded dear Poppy down. As I waved goodbye and felt tears spring to my eyelids, I let out a hoot and holler and cycled across Cortes Island to the ferry, and embarked on wards... 

Breathing in and out and with flashing memories coming into my brain of the dream that was the past month, I slowly pedaled Poppy through the cold rain to Courtenay. I'm now writing to you from Nanaimo, where I'm playing with some Otesha friends. I spent a night camping out near Cathedral grove, a beautiful stand of 800 year old fir trees, and in the frosty brisk air of the evening, as my friend and I were the only ones at the waterfall campsite where we set up home, we built a fire, made some soup and reveled in the simple happiness that camping brings. Waiting for the rainy days to bring sunshine, I'll leave for Victoria on Wednesday to continue visiting friends and exploring Vancouver Island by bicycle. 

A familiar head space; I once again am transitioning from one journey to another. I'm thinking about what my next months will bring, and largely, I'm still discovering what it means to listen deep; to tune right into my heart and speak my truth and make my decisions; for I do believe that listening to the heart centre is what will lead to happy life. 

I'll leave you with a poem which I found buried in the depths of my entertainment bag (I've carried this ziploc bag of journals, pencil crayons, embroidery thread, glue, scrap paper etc. for the past year and a half - a necessity for me while travelling). I wrote it one stormy day in Sydney last January: 

learning, growing
maybe
stifling energy, but greatly
free
move like the wind blows
across the barren field
move with bravery, courage
and to open
to listen deep
to what the universe holds
heart swollen

Right

I stand staring at the ocean, with a sturdy long piece of driftwood in my hand. As I look at the horizon, I scan eastbound toward the snow capped west coast mountains clearly visible on this morning. I breathe a breath out, and feel a grave sense of calmness wash over me.

I turn my gaze downward, to the moist squishy sand of low tide that my blue crocs slowly sink into. I begin by carving a cross into the sand with a half circle and a dot in each of the four quadrants. The dot looks like an eye observing me, and the half circles look like the moon that's been barely visible behind clouds these past few days, as it waxes toward the fullness of itself.

Slowly and methodically I bring the lines to join each point of extension together in large convex arches toward the ocean, beginning to see the cross, half moons, and eyes turn into a unified creation of a labyrinth.

I learned how to draw labyrinths in the sand from my dear friend Jally during my time in Australia. To Jally, the act of drawing and walking the labyrinth has been a great source of calm meditation, contemplation, awareness and presence over her years of walking the labyrinth as a daily meditation. Since she shared how special this ritual was to her, and after I had the chance to experience what it is like to walk this sacred, ritualistic, historic and culturally significant path, I have felt how special these paths are. A symbol of a pilgrimage, a chance to twist and turn, always knowing that you are on the path, the correct one, and losing track of the outside world, the labyrinth invites you to go within and contemplate a question, speak your truth, or just let go of it all. 

This particular morning, after spending 24 days here at Hollyhock, the labyrinth felt stronger as I slowly walked the path towards the centre, and back out again. I've experienced much over the past days here at Hollyhock. I've met some really interesting people, connected so specially with my fellow karma yogis. As I shared in a recent talking circle, that we have each week in the Sanctuary, (a special, grounding, sacred cob structure here at Hollyhock), there are these little bottles inside me. They look like medicinal potion bottles, and there are a few of them, filled with different coloured potions. Since being here at Hollyhock, some of these little bottles have had their corks slowly pulled off, and have been nudged by the universe, so that the colourful potions of emotions, feeling, and awareness, have sloshed over the edge. It's put me in a very amazing but very vulnerable place.   

One of these little bottles spilled completely over this morning, during my walk of the labyrinth. Pink beautiful liquid flowing out, spilling out, washing over me, and spreading onto the sand, and out into the universe, away from me. 

And it felt so good. 

I've shared a lot with people here over the past 24 days. They've shared a lot with me too. A number of themes continue to come up in conversations, in books I pick up, and in presenters and workshops that I encounter at Hollyhock: mindfulness, presence and being aware of the moment you are in. Feeling all my feelings deeply, because I'm allowed to feel whatever is real in my heart, and it is indisputable. Seeking my truth, my true self, learning to listen to that truth, and always speaking it with strength, power and vigor; let my actions follow from my true self. Letting go of the uncontrollable is a valuable practice that immediately brings such peace within - and happiness too. The divine essence resides within each of us, we are all full of this divine light, and so we all have an innate organic connection with one another - amazing! These are just some of the themes, lessons, and conversations I've been having with folks here. There's been oh so much more...

The bundle of energy that is Andria, our volunteer coordinator, meditated on our group and a phrase came to her that she feels resonated with our group purpose or mission during our time here: Inspiration into Action. So I've been thinking about that a lot as well, curious how that looks for me

The amount of love I've been receiving and giving is so magnificent. Other emotions I've been wading through are gratitude, joy, love, fear, vulnerability, confusion, judgement, anger, love, support, fullness, wonder, awe, curiosity, knowledge, and more love, love, love.

As the full moon grows near, I know time has passed and that I will cherish the moments and days I have left here at Hollyhock. It will come time to move on from here, and it will all happen perfectly, just like its suppose to. 

After all, I'm in the right place, at the right time, having the right conversation with the right people.

On purpose?

Are you living in the place you belong, with the people you love, doing the right work, on purpose?

A (loaded) question that was asked at the evening presentation form a workshop facilitator here at Hollyhock who is running a multiday series titled "Repacking Your Bags: Lightening your load for the good life". A really very interesting slew of thoughts and ideas and conversations have been coming up for me over this past first week since I arrived at Hollyhock...

But wait, let's back up some days. Amazing time I had riding the bus across Canada, stopping and visiting with friends en route. Culminating with bright sunny days spent cycling, swimming and eating my way around Vancouver with three familiar faces from my Ottawa days last summer. As far as cities go, Vancouver gets me. Something about it fits like a real good pair of Birkenstocks.

Next I rode my bicycle all loaded up once again to Horseshoe bay, where I ferried my way across to Nanaimo, and was greeted by two super special Otesha friends who have been working real hard at their newly opened community bike shop: Hub City Cycles. I was so excited for them, and to see that indeed the bike co-op is becoming quite a hub in Nanaimo. After some great harvest soup, a walking tour of town and even a race around town on two wheels and down a waterslide or two, I soundly slept and woke early to ride 120km to Courtenay. Here I was greeted by both a friendly bicycle cafe as well a friendly cyclist herself, whom I was so graciously hosted by. We had an absolutely delicious dinner as we chatted about bicycle coalitions, touring and environmentalism. My new friend even rode me out of town the next day en route to Campbell River, the ferry port which would take me to Quadra island, and further on to Cortes the next day. I had one more wonderful stay with super generous people, from whom I loved hearing about adventures in homeschooling, bicycling in Mexico, life on small town Quadra island, and crafting and selling their handmade bicycles (Click here to see more about their company). 

Alas, October 1 came, and as a new month started, it was time for me to cycle home for the next month: Hollyhock education and retreat centre on Cortes Island. After some steep island hills and a bit of warm rain, some momentary confusion about why I'd  chosen  to come so far for something so unknown, oh, and a lot of almond butter, I arrived. And as soon as I met Andria, the volunteer coordinator, and she embraced me in a big hug, I felt that I had come to the right spot, purposefully, at the correct time. As I was set free to explore the property for the next few hours, and I saw the ocean, the unlimited tea bar, the hot tubs, the beautiful kitchen, the garden, I continued to feel at ease with my choice to come here. I met my fellow volunteers: 8 of us all bunking down in the same big house, all coming to Hollyhock  from our own worlds, varying in age between 22-60. Each person is so interesting and we've been sharing really meaningful interesting conversations about the experience of life. I've been asked tough questions and having my eyes opened bigger and wider.  

Besides all that I have been swimming in the invigorating sea, went on a couple hikes-one where I was bombarded and stung by wasps multiple times, I've cycled up and down the Cortesian hills, been to the Cortes Island market, made a local friend or two, I've stargazed and wandered in the garden, played frisbee and soaked in the hot tubs, meditated and practiced yoga, eaten so much delicious food; oh, and done lots of dishes, chopped some veggies, cleaned many rooms, and made many a pot of coffee and tea. 

Gratitude has been filling me up this past week, and it seems fitting since it is the time where many folks give thanks for the harvest, for the gift of love and life. I feel very lucky to be in this place of extraordinary abundance, where I can pick apples from trees, walk into the woods in ten steps, fill my belly full of nutritious food at each meal,  go within myself, and feel supported doing so, connect and learn from new friends, and be happy doing karma yoga through labour. 

As I return to the theme that I started with in this blog post about realizing your life purpose, a theme which I am sure I will continue to come back to time and time again over the next weeks, and a theme many people come to Hollyhock to explore the idea of, I offer you another quote that fits so well within my life at the moment:

"I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve (or save) the world and a desire to enjoy (or savor) the world. This makes it hard to plan the day"  EB White