How strange it is, the extent to which one’s thoughts depend on geography and circumstance.
In theory, one could pause and take stock of one’s life anywhere – while sitting in traffic, while waiting in line to buy lunch, while bored at one’s desk in the afternoon.
But it never seems to work out that way. Most of the time, the small obscures the large.
For me, it only happens when I’m on my own, without a phone or internet connection - with the autumn sunshine streaming down, walking in silence through grassy fields and trees with green leaves starting to dapple to yellow and red, somewhere with only my own thoughts for conversation.
Then I think about my life.