Spending time in lower altitudes, as I have this past month, has really led to the development of a genuine appreciation for my home state. Not that I don't love the smell of an ocean breeze or the skin softening effects of humidity, but I have definitely realized that this place has spoiled me with its beauty.

Also on said walk between car and work, I came to a chilly realization that I miss being alone. I miss my depressive winter months, pressing through piles of books and schoolwork, passing through familiar halls of familiar faces and not knowing anyone. I miss coming home and spending hours alone just reading or creating bits of art here and there.

These days have been truly filled to the brim with activity. Constantly making new lists and revising old ones. Berating myself for forgetting little things. Berating myself for not having time to do everything. I want life to slow down and I know I have the power to do so, but the crux of the problem is my desire to be everything to everyone. I try to maintain my relationships with friends in Denver, my family and friends here in town, and it stretches me to the point of breaking.

I need to stop. I will stop. Perhaps this is a cycle that happens every year, where I swing between poles of high summer activity and slow winter torpor. Well, as they say, variety is the spice of life.

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