Finding Balance in Motion: Poetic Reflections on Travel, Routine, and the Architecture of Existence
A poetic exploration of movement, memory, and the ongoing search for balance amidst life’s physical and mental disruptions. The entry reflects on routines interrupted by travel, the subtle interplay of grit and ease, and the philosophical question of whether writing can exist independently of its author.
I’ve been transported across vast distances—all on this planet. Working to keep myself still, in balance, when time and existence changes based on physical location.
And during my travels, my routines were interrupted—down to not even having moments to myself. Even a bathroom was a place from which I could not have an uninterrupted moment.
But the runs and the drives—they were heavenly!The wedding was fun also.Funny, I’m just drifting in some memories. It’s early and I’m foggy from staying up all night Friday for work and just now feeling halfway normal—although energetic wouldn’t be the term.
It is nice to have some time to write and fill a few pages. That retrospect, practice, leisure, opportunity. Ah, that word again: opportunity. Opportunities spring up, and one should be ready when they strike. Be ready for the next great opportunity.
Something so small was an advance in material science—to produce a cover which takes away heat, a super absorber. Or a way to produce low energy heat and a thin insulating cover as well. This, and water and power, and one can carve out a nice existence most anywhere.
This is where grit, determination, and focus come into play. And not taking it easy.That also is a mindset—to take it easy.But you can also combine the two ways of living—or do both. The traditional and the new age.Perhaps the new age vacation home.
Imagine taking the concepts of the Earthship, mixing with the best ideas in architecture, with practical and modern applications in construction—then print a home out of concrete, custom pre-engineered to spec with the land and the planet, and 1,000 years in mind as to changes in planetary position relative to sun, and so on, with heat and weather observances—but building for comfort, looking at the next 100 years.
(On another page, maybe another time)
this page.This writing—what has it become? Or what have I become?Am I the writing, or can the writing ever say it lives independent of its author? Likely not.