Photo: R_Tee/iStock |
So one Saturday afternoon back home, annoyed with myself and unwilling to submit anyone else to my attitude, I took off for the woods alone. Wine can, sandwich, warm layer, book. South down the Pacific Crest Trail toward a lake I was pretty sure was pretty. At the lake, I set up my tent and shook out my sleeping bag, then sat on a log near the muddy shore and cracked open the can and the book.
Before I even made it through the introduction, I realized I’d chosen well. Sometimes, I think, books show up in your life at exactly the right time...
Rain rolled in over the lake as I slept, and in the morning, I lay in the tent with How to Do Nothing, listening for a break in the storm. For the first time in a long time, I did not anxiously check my phone or internally berate myself for not getting up earlier. I just stayed.
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Source: Outside