June 20, 2018


Dear Therapist Gumby,

In your extended absence, I went for a walk.  I hooked my dog to a leash and went up my street and back down my street.  It wasn't to ward off suicidal ideation.  It was to get in the last of my daily steps so my Garmin would stop beeping at me.  But now I know what it is like to take a walk down my street.

I didn't feel prying eyes from house windows like I expected to feel.  I hadn't noticed before the spot where the power lines leave the air and go underground, near the top of the street.  And I had never realized how loud it is in the summer, the patch of street with woods on either side, with falling twigs and seeds and small, scurrying animals and all of the summer insects.

I had to walk in my sandals because my sneakers are up at the Lodge.  I need new ones.  P.J. bought me those for my birthday two years ago, for walking with good support, but I've ruined them with grass stains and the weed whacker.  I didn't take good care of them and I wish that I had.

I didn't feel any endorphins or connection to nature.  But I want you to know that in your absence, I went for a walk.


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