by Chris de Serres
I sometimes get restless. To be outside. To use my body. To sweat. I am rough waters. Roiling and crashing. When what I want, or what I need, seems to be disappearing off into the distance I crash even louder. Those I love create space for me. I lash out. The tiniest speck ignites it, whatever it is inside of me. Then like magic, it all dissipates. It could be an email. A look from my wife, with the words “just go” loosing from her lips.
Then I go. To suffer. At the end is the reward. I’ve exhausted my body. I’ve done something. Hiked to the summit. Ran the length of a trail. Climbed the rock face.
Then I am calm again.