If you can't afford therapy may I suggest the next best thing: mowing the lawn.
I am not kidding. There may be few activities more mentally freeing than mindlessly walking in step, row after row, to the drone of the mower's motor. If I could write while doing it, this space would have a lot more content. Thoughts come in torrents as I push that little machine around the yard.
For someone who enjoys daydreaming as much as I do, it is a wonderful diversion that accomplishes something at the same time. Unfortunately (for me -- you might be happy about it), I never remember more than vague hints of my ethereal escape and, thus, can't share them here.
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