I had a very pleasant day. I slept extremely well—and got up with lots of energy and enthusiasm. I don’t remember dreaming. But I woke up with my mind extremely clear. I got up from bed slowly—thinking about what I was going to do for the day. I hadn’t really thought it out, but I knew I wanted to visit one of the islands in the Puget Sound.

Unfortunately, I slept alone. Probably TMI.  I took a warm shower, which felt extremely refreshing and magical at the same time. I mean, what would my life be without running water in the house, especially running hot water in the house. I think it’s quite a blessing to be able to leave from my bedroom, go directly to another room—where there is running water to brush my teeth, take a shower and s***.

I made myself some really good oat pancakes—from scratch. I made oat flour by blending a cup of oats in the blender.  I added a bit of baking powder, cinnamon, cardamom and nutmeg—don’t forgot milk and eggs. The result is the best wholesome pancakes ever. Once again, fortunate enough to have an electric stove. Pancakes with maple syrup, strawberries, blueberries and raspberries. What a damn treat.

After breakfast, I leave for Harstine Island—located not very far from Tacoma, Washington. My car is full of gas and conveniently parked close to my apartment. I feel very fortunate. I’m in a beautiful apartment. Sleeping in lovely room. I’m able to fix a wonderful breakfast with ease. I have warm running water throughout the apartment. Waiting outside, I have a car that could take me anywhere I want to go. Imagine that.  What a beautiful thing.  Our ancestors would be flabbergasted. I know this is silly, but I don’t want to take these things for granted. I’m trying to be thankful for the little things that happens everyday.

I’m on the freeway heading south. It’s about an hour and a half drive until I get to Harstine Island. It’s extremely early. No one is here but me. It’s beautiful. I look across the sound and wonder what it must have been like for the Natives who lived here hundreds—even thousands of years ago. They must have known they were in paradise. I continue to wonder what this area looked like with the original old growth trees. I am happy. I am at peace with myself and nature.  As I stand on Harstine Island looking over the Puget Sound, I feel thankful.

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