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December 10, 2020
Dear younger self: Walk. Nature is your medicine. The solace you need. Trees are wiser than me. Stand near one daily. Walk often. Less concrete, more trails. That is some of what you will hear from this serene, crinkled, quiet, older self, when you fret in moments of dismay or despair. With great compassion, I beg of you to laugh more, lay under a tree, gaze at river, breathe. As if you have control over a global pandemic, the president or any person. So, sweet young thing: buck up, chin up, look up, find the moon, hum, hike. Love, you.