I feel as though I am cruising at 35,000 feet. After returning from Tennessee to visit my family, there is always the radical shift from liquid to solid mass, from slow, languid molecular gamboling to tight-ass and relentless fast pace. I was able to let my mind loosen and relax down there, and I felt it begin to tighten again as we crunched down the sad driveway toward the main road back to MN. Things are fast again and busy. My mind flits and flutters with the million things I can and should (not) do. Too many choices. The feeling of too many things that need something from me. It is almost maddening to me sometimes. On the farm, there is sitting, thinking, working, television, and eating - a monastic cycle of passing time. Add in reading and writing, and you are stenciling heaven. Here there is the reality of speed.
I need to find and retain the balance and peace on the farm here, in the roil and choke of urban life.