Get off the couch. Put down your phone. Step away from the desk. Disconnect. Don’t just stand and stretch, or half-ass stare out the window. GO OUTSIDE. Resist. RESIST. Keep your hands free, your fingers empty, your pockets alone. Rest. Stop straining your eyes, and please just look. Everywhere. Look further and deeper and longer at the world around you. It’s alive.
This is how I remind myself to live. This is how I get out. This is how I unwind from the office, the commute, the tethers that keep me plugged in, and from the trivial annoyances and frustrations of the unmentioned around me. This is usually my Thursday and Friday mornings, and this one, in the Jeep Wrangler Rubicon pictured above, was one of the best.
It’s true, most L.A. morning’s look like this. Why do you think so many people live here?
I’ll spare you the SoCAL love fest–I could wax poetic on how magical it is here–because the point of this photo is to remind you to roll down the windows. Throw down the top, or open the sunroof. Let your hair down. Turn off your phone. Turn up the music–or better yet, just turn it off!
Look at this picture of a 2012 Jeep Wrangler Rubicon. Make it big. Study the terrain. Imagine the wind rustling your hair, tickling your nose. Hear the birds chirping in the distance. Picture yourself walking to the edge and looking down. Then up. Identify with this place a suitable replacement from your neck of the woods. Find a spot and make it your own. Go to it everyday, every week, month or year, whenever–it doesn’t matter, just go to it, and breathe.
And smile. Don’t forget to smile.