To get something straight, eating the same thing is boring as all hell. I gained a measure of satisfaction from it, of course, or else I wouldn’t have done it.
Category Archives: New Zealand
Another wave of nausea wrenches my stomach, and I cling to the horizon with my eyes, willing the North Island to come closer. I nervously check the lower deck to see if any hapless soul is below should I release my lunch.
I’m afraid of a lot of things: Bears, snakes, transition, commitment, pain. I also love a lot of things: exploring the outdoors, visiting new places, and building relationships with intricate people.
We admire the people who adventure, who scale mountains, who travel to faraway places with nothing but optimism, peanut butter, and probably not enough experience.
My life is just as real, just as full, and just as much mine as it ever has been and ever will be. I may not know what it will look like in a year, but I know that God knows.
I looked down at Winston (or the other one), who still looked up at me pleadingly. He hadn’t moved an inch, even though there were about fifteen other willing petters around.
But probably, it was simply a pure moment, where the present brushes eternity and leaves a faint aroma of godliness. I breathed in. The rain whispered, and the grass ruffled.
Sometimes there is nothing better than being outside; sometimes I would pay anything to escape.
But like Bilbo returning to Bag End, sometimes you return home and your neighbors are rifling through your linen and walking out the door with your cutlery.
When I first bought rolled oats, I had them plain in hot water, but after cringing through the first several bites, I realized that eating plain oats is like eating your own depression.