When I was young, I always thought of myself as an “indoors person”. I think that is because as a child it is easy to confuse “outdoors” with “active”. Outside is where your mother sends you when you are being too disruptive or boisterous; outdoors is where running and rough-and-tumble games are played. I never wanted to chase or be chased. I wanted to curl up inside with a book.
As I get older, though, I’m learning that I am undoubtedly an outdoors person. When I’m feeling tired or stressed or down, what I can’t stop thinking about is getting outside – in the sun, on the grass, amongst the trees. Fresh air. Green. Nature. Bliss.
Sunshine makes me happy. The sea makes me happy. Outside makes me happy.
I will never be an overly “active” person. But I am an “outside” person. A quietly outside person – where outside consists of breathing, seeing, sitting, embracing.