Jun. 5th, 2019

sasha_feather: Person in old-time SCUBA gear on a suburban lawn (Tales from Outer Suburbia)
Due to smoke in the air from Canadian wildfires, and pollen so thick it's coating my windshield, I closed the apartment windows. I'm sad about it, and have been thinking often of this insightful article:

Lyme Disease Changed my Relationship with the Outdoors, by Blair Braverman

https://www.outsideonline.com/2395555/lyme-disease-changed-my-relationship-outdoors

I became acutely aware of how much life outdoors revolves around tolerable discomfort, or threading a thin line to avoid that discomfort...

But now that I was sick, I couldn’t absorb any discomfort. I needed everything around me to be perfect: the right temperature, the right light, the right soft surfaces and quiet voices. Houses are highly efficient shrines to comfort, and when you’re sick, it seems like that external comfort is all you have. Just as my life as a healthy person had been defined by time outside, being indoors became a symbol of being unwell to me.

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