i first read le petit prince in highschool, when i was about 14. at that age life is simple and pretty much laid out for you for a little while. i couldn't quite understand in the book when the protagonist and the prince talked about being true to yourself and only doing things you care about. why was something so obvious even being discussed? why would you do things you didn't care about?

twenty odd years later i am struggling to hold on to that notion. it is extremely challenging to make ends meet in this expensive, beautiful city, and most new yorkers spend their time scraping by. working jobs they dislike because the pay is good. if you asked me what i'd rather be doing with my time, i'd tell you that i'd rather be listening to the wind in the trees and picking vegetables from my backyard. instead, i need to stay content with this city life, enjoying the chaise and the chirping of sparrows outside my window. i do like my neighborhood, but i don't have the money to embrace it the way i'd like to.

sometimes i dream about moving back to our little house. i was desperately lonely there, but it was freedom and the earth like i'd never known.