Summer

Why can we never just be happy with the time we have at the time we have it? Why do I spend most of my time thinking about things that have already happened or about what needs to be done in the future? The whole idea of being in the here and now seems so damn elusive. Why is something so simple so hard? I am in the process of reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert and she struggles with this idea through her exploration into Buddhism. It was also the subject of most of Salinger's work with the exception of Catcher although I guess it applies in a way. I'm enjoying being here in So Cal with my mom and having time to relax but I am always feeling like I'm not doing what I should be. HA. How stupid but it's true. I get angry at myself for not reading enough, for not walking enough, for not going to the movies enough, not whatever enough. I have been just being though, hanging with mom on the patio. Her yard is like a sanctuary. It's quiet in the midst of all the smog, traffic and anxiety of this place. There are trees. Lots of trees and they are big and protective and insulating. I feel so safe and happy in that backyard. I especially like it when it's the evening in the summer. There is nothing like a beautiful gloaming in LA. It's warm, but not hot and the memory of the heat of the day lingers in the back of your mind. The smells are of gardenias and some kind of tree bark. I don't know what it is but I remember it from camp when I was young. It is the chapparelle smell. The kind you can only get from this regions combination of desert and green stuff. Ahh well, I am going into the yard to read now...