You have perhaps heard me say that I do not like traveling. By that I mean I do not like being in transit. The time and space constraints are a bother. Sitting somewhere other than normal is only an irritation to the extent that carrying more than a small subset of one’s gear cannot be done easily. Imagine servants loading chests onto the Titanic.
The anonymity and quiet can replenish my energy, however. I notice myself shaving and think that too much time has gone by without good exercise. Nathalie heard something about monasteries offering retreats to those addled by the noise and bustle of town.
Matt’s wife Colette suggested running with other people. The peer pressure forces you out. In fact the quiet and solitude draws me out. Unless I have been spending so much time with people that I am too tired to go.
Figments of a lack of imagination