[Wishing this were the here and now.]

This was taken the day before I decided on absolute acceptance (a decision I've found difficult to follow through with.) I can't control other people; I can barely control myself for lord's sake. I sat on a rock to write one of this summer's river of unsent letters and what came out of me was love and acceptance, with an understanding that there's no way to get what I want, and that desire is a muddy thing.

Question: will too much acceptance lead to passivity? Am I leading myself into a life of serving other people's desires? (Is that wrong?)

I feel so much love for my tent. Look at that cute little gold rainbow! The dream team is me and my tent and my camera. Is there a life for me alone in the woods? The desire for solitude is like the gravity of the abyss, thrilling and unsettling.

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