Damon Albarn sings, “The world is spinning too fast, I bought these Nike shoes / to keep myself tethered to the days I try to lose.” I’m an aspiring transcendentalist, so I won’t by shoes to tether me, but I will write.

I’m in a place I’ve been before. One year ago I forsook Chicago and dreamed of sunny San Francisco days. Now I find I have forsaken SF and long to be back in the heartland. Plans are in motion; come November I return just in time to breath that late Midwestern autumn air.

The task now befalls me to avoid the despair I felt last year–to not count days, nor spite time. My heart is already back there, but three months’ weight burdens my shoulders. I need to value the present, for anticipation is an agony that never hastened the passing of time.

I need to keep myself tethered. To do this, I will write–blog posts, poetry, emails and letters. Perhaps this is a ruse to trick my brain into quantifying time to allay a sense of loss. Perhaps it is a distraction. For your part, dear reader, it’s all teleological.