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When nothing else matters
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Reading time: 1.11 281 words Hey Reader, I step onto the beach with my board and pause. I can hear the sea, just… but I can’t see it; there’s too much fog. By a large driftwood log, I set up my little camp and warm up, watching shadowy figures emerge from the mist, boards under their arms. Their laughter drifts over my skin. Early surfers on their way for breakfast and the rest of their day. Mine’s just beginning. As soon as I pass the breakers, I’m alone with the fog, the salt water, and the rhythm of the waves, and nothing else matters. Listen; watch; THIS ONE. I hop aboard, glance over my shoulder as the wave chases me, and paddle madly before pushing to my feet. Left foot back because I’m goofy. Hop my right foot forward a touch — there. I slide down the wave, through the white water, and turn. Laughter spills out of my mouth, I throw my arms up in triumph, and the sea laughs back and bucks me off. AGAIN. And again and again. In between, Wild by Cheryl Strayed, and eavesdropping on other beachgoers and eating lunch. Is there anything as sweet as an apple on the beach? Back to the sea I go, before the world can intrude again and I spin myself up with too many thoughts because this is important. As important as everything else we do. Time alone, in nature, concentrating on one thing with fierce focus until everything else fades into the background. I can hear the rest of the world, just… but I can’t see it; there’s too much joy. It’s a reset for the soul and I am so very grateful for it. TTFN, Vicky 🫡 p.s. Know someone who might enjoy this email? Please forward it to them and get them to sign up here.
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Learn to Write Like You Mean It
Join 500+ writers, creatives, misfits, and weirdos and learn to write like you mean it in 10 minutes a week. Get ONE practical tip, story, or shenanigan every weekday + a creative goodie bag on Friday 🖖🏼
Reading time: 3.14 766 words Read this email in your browser Hey Reader, Halfway up Cader Idris, I ran out of everything: energy, patience, my breakfast, and the ability to form any coherent thoughts to solve the problem in front of me. The problem was that I hadn’t eaten enough breakfast and I hadn’t brought enough proper food and I really hadn’t thought the whole thing through. Good job my base level of fitness was high, ey? I stopped for a moment and considered: I could turn around and go...
Reading time: 3.03 723 words Read this email in your browser Hey Reader, “What would make it possible?” When John Aaron, NASA engineer in mission control, worked on the Apollo 13 mission, he found himself sliding into despair. The oxygen tank had exploded. The crew were running out of air and time. The command module had to be shut down. And the ship was on its way back from slingshotting around the Moon. They were surviving in Aquarius, the lunar module, which was never designed as a...
Reading time: 2.36 615 words Read this email in your browser Hey Reader, “OPTIMIZE YOUR SLEEP!!!” screamed the subject line and my toes curled so hard they snapped off and flew into orbit, escaped the Earth’s gravity, and were last seen belting past the moons of Jupiter. Together with my final nerve. I don’t want to optimise my fucking sleep. I don’t want some stunted little techbro getting involved with my life even when I’m UNCONSCIOUS. I want to sit on lush green grass in the dappled shade...