Summary

The article describes the author's habit of carrying folding chairs to enjoy reading and sketching in scenic locations as a form of relaxation and inspiration.

Abstract

The author and their partner have developed a routine of carrying high-backed folding chairs in their car, ready for impromptu reading and sketching sessions in nature or at coffeehouses. Over time, they've found this practice to be a cost-effective and healthier alternative to frequenting crowded and expensive cafes. The folding chairs have become an essential part of their outdoor activities, allowing them to enjoy and be inspired by the beauty of places like Sequoia National Park and Sedona. This habit proved particularly beneficial during the pandemic, providing a safe way to escape the confines of their home and find peace in less conventional places like hidden parks and cemeteries. The author reflects on the serendipitous nature of this practice, realizing it aligns with recommended activities for mental well-being and creativity, regardless of one's profession.

Opinions

The author embraces the identity of being someone who always carries folding chairs, finding it a comfortable and practical way to enjoy scenic views.
There's a preference for their current high-backed chairs over more portable options, despite the inconvenience, due to their comfort and durability.
The author values the simplicity and accessibility of their chosen decompression method, which they plan to continue for decades.
The practice of sitting in nature with their own chairs is seen as a high-impact activity for the soul, offering a form of meditation and inspiration.
The author considers their habit of reading and sketching in nature as a form of best practice for writers and believes it to be beneficial for people in any vocation.

PENNY PUB PROMPT

Have Chairs, Will Travel!

If you’re gonna read, may as well have a vista

**Our trusty high-backed chairs have seen many a view** | Image by the author

I’m not sure when it started, when we became those people.

The ones who carry middle-aged-appropriate high-backed folding chairs in the back of the car and are always prepared for emergency scenery sessions.

But acceptance is good. We have become “those guys,” and it works for us.

During a busy week, the thing my partner, Eddie, and I look forward to the most is a decompression session — a place to go be silent together and read our books, page through magazines and plan future travels (that would be me), and also journal, write lists, sketch (that would be him), and dream.

“Wanna go sit at a coffeehouse?”

The simple question gets the two of us assembling our plethora of reading choices, sketchbooks, journals and tools to prep for the two-hour bliss station we plan to gift ourselves.

But over time, favorite coffeehouses became overcrowded, and the always-ascending prices of java and the too-tempting baked goods were doing a number on our wallets. And our waistlines, dammit.

Enter the folding-chair years.

**A folding chair spot near Mammoth Lakes in Northern CA** Image by the author

Sure, being proper Californians, we have a nice set of beach chairs, but no, we’re talking about high-backed, comfortable folding chairs — the sometimes ungainly kind that you simply plop down in nature.

Yes, before you say it, we’re aware there are easier-option chairs at Costco that can be slung over the shoulder. Being minimalists, we’re waiting for these bad boys to die first. And they’re hanging in there.

Almost every journey out of the house now includes the books we’re currently reading, some travel mags, Eddie’s sketchbook, made-at-home iced teas and coffees, snacks (saving the money!), and the chairs, just in case we stumble upon some awesome place to plant ourselves for an hour.

Our chairs are in photos from Sequoia National Park and Sedona, AZ, where the scenery is so stunning in every direction it just cries out, plant your own chair and enjoy, and we’re happy to oblige.

The Pandemic Years

This mindset served us oh so well in the early 2020 months of COVID. In overcrowded LA, our chairs found their way to hidden parks and even cemeteries — anything to get out of the house, forget troubles, keep the virus at bay, and try to calm the mind with the best tools for the occasion —fresh air, space, silence, nature, books, art and journal-writing.

**Setting up camp and paying respects in Forest Lawn Cemetery in Burbank** | Image by the author

As an online writer, time away from the screen is essential — to be inspired, to fill up the well. But I find it so fascinating that I was already doing “writer best practices” years before I realized I would be a writer.

Perhaps the scenery decompression sessions are a recommended activity for folks in any vocation. I sure think so.

Try it! No ungraceful flop down onto a picnic blanket and wet grass, no dusting bird poo off of a park bench — instead, plant your own chairs and put yourself in the way of beauty.

I feel blessed. If my only decompression method was something athletic like singles tennis or basketball, I’d fear the slow loss of it to age.

But lucky me, I’ll be doing this for decades to come.

Reading in chairs via nature is low-impact, baby!

But high-impact on the soul.

Other pieces by this author you might enjoy —

Saved By Stuffed Animals (Again)

Some relationships survive the years

medium.com