Today I walked outside.
This isn’t noteworthy for that fact alone, but because I wasn’t going anywhere. I very, very rarely leave my apartment without the intention of going somewhere; usually work, but occasionally to run an errand. The time spent outside is very rarely any more than necessary to walk the 15 paces to my car.
In the car, the radio is always on. Sometime music; more often sports talk radio. At home, the TV is always on. Griffin is always playing with a toy or being fussy or needing attention. I always have the laptop nearby, and I spend probably 70% of my time looking at the same websites over and over.
Since I was a little kid, my ears have rung. I have a constant high-pitched ringing 24/7/365, and I have since I was 8 or 9. I very rarely notice it anymore, because it’s with me all the time. The constant din of media and activity is like that ringing. It’s a perpetual white noise that follows me everywhere. It’s there all the time, so I just tune it out. It’s “normal,” so I don’t perceive it.
The problem is, even though I don’t notice it, it still affects me. I know this because when I stepped outside, set my white plastic lawn chair on the grass and sat down, I felt much more at ease than I had in a long time. My anxiety about pratically everything dissipated. I felt the world moving around me, and I knew that it would be… okay.
I’ve acquired many things. I own tons of DVDs and games and computer junk. But none of them ever make me feel as right with the world as sitting outside did today.