I should be packing, but I haven’t done much of anything for a couple of weeks. I don’t know why my body stores so much stress. And I don’t know why I’m too stubborn to do anything to eliminate that stress. Like yoga or any sort of exercise. I’ve shut down. But then, I’ve been dealing with unrelated emotional things. So it’s okay.
I’m sitting in the shade of a large tree, reading Utopia. All I know about the book is its name and who wrote it. I’m on page 24, and so far I like it. This guy is debating the humanity of law and putting his opponent to shame. I see the book leading me to a peaceful place, which was my assumption going in and why I’m reading the book.
I suppose I am making an effort.
There is a bright green cup in the garage and in my line of sight. A large insect, probably a grasshopper, flew around the corner and into the garage, landed on the cup, and then immediately flew back around the corner. It was odd. So I started thinking about the lives of insects, flying ones in particular. What do they really do all day? I’ve never seen wasps eat; they just fly around all fluffy and menacing like, and bounce off of things.
And this got me wondering whether insects sleep.
I looked it up, and according to Wonderopolis:
Most insects are either active only during the day or only at night. When they’re not active, they rest. This state of rest in insects is called torpor, and it’s not exactly like sleep as we know it. During torpor, insects remain very still and don’t respond much to stimuli around them.
Word knowledge #4 (4?): Torpor… the laziest form of decompression
I have spent much of my summer in a state of torpor.
Back to Utopia …