It's a beautiful morning in the country here. I bought a house in Orange County, New York last year, something I never thought I could accomplish, but here I am and the golden sunlight on my wild hillside is once more feeding my soul.
Of course, one is never satisfied, and I'm filled with anxiety as usual, about my summer Psychology and the Law course, the hundred emails I have to get through, my to do list unlooked at for a week, posting on Bilerico, and wondering when my friend Mallory will get here so we can get the kayaks over to the lake.
But the golden sunshine and the wild greenery push back the craziness of modern life. This hillside has been here on the Ramapo Mountains for a thousand years, and it's not worried about emails or to do lists or politics.
I sometimes wish I could be the same, but I'm not a hillside. Truth be told, I do care. I care about politics, I care about people, about my friends, my students. Perhaps too much, but if I didn't, I wouldn't be me. It would be good to remember that Gmail, to do lists and politics don't care about me. Perhaps I'm sort of a gardener of Gmail, to do lists and politics. I tend them, to the best of my ability, but sometimes the weeds get beyond me, and that's okay. There's too much information washing around these days to ever really keep on top of it.
There's always tomorrow.