Searching for sustainable me

Just lay down, be buried with a thick layer of soil, and wake with first spring. Every day beyond the comfort zone, I find myself cutting the unfunctional, making mistakes, eager to give up.

To close my eyes, transfer me to the medieval monastery. Stay there whole day praying, trembling with immense cold, feel it to my tiniest bone. So then taking an icy shower at home would be relaxing, not an unbearable act. 

To get lost in a freezing blizzard on a one-horse sleigh in Russia of the mid 19th century. So then I would feel happy and comfortable in any weather when staying outside.

To pop up in Europe during the 2WW to experience what was avalaible to eat for a whole week. So then the amount of food in our fridge would appear a clear bizarre waste.

To sit in the corner of a French café 111 years ago, drink Absinth, and listen to all these great painters, dancers, writers, their engaging talks about the novelty of Belle Epoque. So then I could see the colors and details I could not see before, to be able to evaluate beauty not possess. 

To sail the sea on the wooden boat with Robinson Crusoe to feel the power of natural elements. So then I would be grateful to walk on the ground with my feet, no need to use any means of transport.

To get my long skirts dirty when rushing through muddy, barren English moors to visit a nearby neighbor in Emily Bronte times. So then, while using homemade washing gel, I would not be bothered with prewashing the stains in my hands. 

Pretending nothing had happened, with the face of the holy statue on the bridge. And again, live my simple every day with sustainable joy.