These Months of Leisure copyright 1976 by Tracy Marks Unemployed, experiencing months of leisure for the first time, I hold the reins of life loosely in my hand and trot through the countryside. I am not concerned with reaching a destination, only with being where I am now, turning onto random paths here and there without direction. This is the stage of trusting the horse. Perhaps when night approaches, I will want to grasp the reins tightly and take control, but now I am enjoying letting go. Yet as soon as I become aware of all the hours lost in my rambling, I become anxious and dissatisfied. I tell myself that eventually I will return to the main path and journey in a predetermined direction, but the further I stray from the trail, the more difficult I may  have finding it. The more freedom I give my horse, the less willing he may be to obey my commands again. When this year ends, I may have nothing to show for these wasted months, these aimless wanderings, but I will have the memories of the wind blowing in my face and the rustling of the leaves. This is enough to justify these months of leisure.

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