i have not been doing the things that make me happy.

In Portland, I would drive an hour just to look at the ocean for a few minutes. Now, I live so close and I only really see it from my lanai. Writing has always been like breathing, and I can feel how stifled my soul is lately. Small, OCD-Dana things have fallen by the wayside, too.

I know why, in some senses. And I know that I need to remember how to sing to my soul again.