Relaxation

You'd think that, as a workaholic, I know nothing about relaxation.  Not true.  Problem is:  if I don't curb my fatal attraction to relaxation, I could become a slug.  There's a very fine line between workaholism and slug-ism.

Let me explain.

If I didn't have so many darn things to do, I could spend days on end reading.  In fact, when I was a kid, I'd check out 12 books from the library on a Saturday.  (That was the maximum kids could take.)  They'd all be read before the following weekend...like by Wednesday.  Right now, I could easily read three books a day--if I didn't have anything else to do.  Or I could walk the beach...if Montana had an ocean.  When I lived in Massachusetts (and my kids were college age or older and I was single), I'd take my puppy and walk the beach for hours.  Talk about relaxation.  Hardly anyone else walks the beach at 6:00am on a Saturday--regardless of the time of year.  And if you do happen to run across someone, they know enough not to speak.  A polite little nod is all the interaction needed, thank you.

Because of Montana's lack of an ocean, I do the next-best thing.  I sit on my front porch here in the Rocky Mountains, mug of tea in hand, and watch my ten acres of pine trees sway in the breeze.  Okay, 9 acres of pine trees--one acre is cleared.  And okay, some of the trees are firs (Douglas or grand) and others are larch (aka tamarack).  But they're mine.  And they look SO beautiful with the backdrop of an endless Montana Big Sky.  (At left, Ponderosa Pine backlit by Big Sky.)

There's something so restful and peaceful about the ocean ebbing and flowing, or a breeze caressing through acres of evergreen needles, or hurt-your-eyes glare of the summer sun on a mountain stream.

When I allow myself to relax, everything opens:  my mind, my heart, my imagination.

How do you relax - and how does it affect your world?