“—how wonderful to be who I am, made out of earth and water, my own thoughts, my own fingerprints—all that glorious, temporary stuff.”

∆ Mary Oliver, excerpt of “On Meditating, Sort Of”, in Blue Horses

The fact is that moving matter about, while a certain amount of it is necessary to our existence, is emphatically not one of the ends of human life.

Imagine trusting your body so much, that the ebb and flow of your energy levels are never a cause for alarm, but more a cause to embrace the natural variety that your own body expresses into the world. Trusting that your fallow periods would be followed by periods of doing, simply because it is in your nature to ebb and flow.