Lately, the summer sky has been filled with enormous fluffy white clouds. High altitude winds sometimes stack them into floating skyscrapers. I’ve been watching them as much as I can, imprinting them in my memory to call up when my mind gets stuck in the details of living. It’s made me realize just how much I exist in my mind, in screens, and in words. I sometimes forget that words are a tool I use to communicate experiences and feelings. Without tuning in to my own experiences and the feelings they evoke, there’s nothing for my words to reflect. My writing will be as empty as an echo. These clouds are visceral. Staring at them, I can feel their softness, the cool moisture they contain. I notice the sun catching in their edges and making them glow, then feel it hitting my own skin and warming me. I remember that there is a huge and beautiful world outside of me, that I exist within it, moving through it, and only truly experiencing it when I stop and give myself the time to pay attention.