Sometimes you just want to get nowhere, and you want to get there slowly.
I went outside at lunch, but not for a walk. Too direct, too fast. Not for a stroll, either. Still too focused, too goal oriented. No – I wanted to mosey.
And so I did.
I was probably going one mile per hour – that is, while I was actually moving. When you mosey, you can stop whenever you like.
(Thought: It would be nice to be in the woods, but driving in order to mosey seems to defeat the purpose today.)
I stuck my hands in my pockets. You can do that when you’re not moving too fast.
(Thought: Chicory, Queen Anne’s lace, and clover are so common along these roads. But they’re so beautiful.)
I cleared my head. The thoughts came by like leaves floating down a stream. Consider them for a moment; then let them float by.
(Thought: Look – the cottonwoods are clapping their hands.)
I communed with the grasshoppers jumping around my feet. They clearly didn’t care where they ended up, either.
I returned to work refreshed. Moseying is like apple mint tea for the soul.