…

Periods of so-called solitude — they weren’t solitude at all. They were a rekindling of a forgotten connection. 

The fall of modern humanity is in forgetting the beauty of what some may think is “anthropomorphic” projection; but truly do I tell you that we are always projecting ourselves onto the natural world — so if you see the natural world as lacking in soul, inanimate, and unintelligent… well, you get the point. 

These periods of solitude can only be considered solitude if one regards the only relationships worth maintaining as being with other humans. Those are important; however, there are other highly important relationships widely forgotten. 

So, when you see me talking to the Moon, the ocean, the stars, a tree… you might see insanity, but truly, I am remembering. I am honoring. I am learning. These great teachers always have lessons to whisper; sensitize yourself to the subtle. There is always something to be heard if one would only listen. 

A life characterized by an inexplicable longing, an incommunicable yearning, that abates when basking in the sublime. 

The spirit of the Romantic, erasure of the boundary between humanity and nature. Toes in dirt. Hand on bark, fingers tracing that natural Braille.