I Only Breathe Fresh Air Every Four Weeks…

…when I go to the hospital for my infusions – which is not entirely true, but it makes for a better title. I do step outside the house to scoop packages from Walmart and Amazon off the porch and to set the trash on the curb on Tuesdays. But, I only leave the house every four weeks.

It was this Tuesday, walking to the bus stop, that I became aware of the sensation of fresh air in my lungs. It was warm air and slightly humid but fresher than the air in my house, unfiltered and sweet. And I suddenly felt, really felt, how long I have been in my house.

I used to catch the bus five days a week at least, and walk at least 10,000 steps a day. I tasted, breathed, processed fresh air almost every day. I was used to it, so used to it that I didn’t notice it, experience it in the moment, didn’t appreciate it.

And, now…

I love being indoors, love being in my house. I love shutting the world out and thinking about it as little as possible (that may be why I don’t read or watch the news much). Unlike my friend Niles, I never get tired of it, never get stir crazy, never need to leave.

I have been indoors so much the last two months, catching the bus, walking 10,000 steps, is becoming a foreign concept.

The emotionally mature part of me knows I need to change that.

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