Learning to appreciate the beauty in the simple things is probably the most important lesson I've learned from writing these posts. I was inspired (yet again) by this poem by Tony Hoagland. How can something so simple be so beautiful? Here's an account of the first 5 minutes of my day today - as close to perfect as it gets.
I wake up, stretch. Panic for a split second because it's light out and it shouldn't be light out yet and oh my god I'm late for work I've slept in I'll be fired or at least I won't be the first one in the office and then everyone will know I'm not really all that hardcore I'm just a big phony who sleeps 'till it's light out.
Realize it's Saturday. BEST. FEELING. EVER. I almost say "yessss!" out loud but stop myself because I'm not the only one relishing this perfect Saturday morning. The light snores coming from the other side of the bed don't bother me, but make me feel comforted and cozy.
Outside, frost covers the cars, sticks to every blade of grass. We are slowly being prepared for the long, wicked winter that hovers just around the corner. Right now, though, I'm not thinking about the frost or the cold air. I'm still warm and cozy in bed remember, the heat of the computer on my lap and the duvet creating a combination that makes me never want to leave. And I don't have to. Because it's Saturday.
The beauty of having absolutely no plans makes me feel so free. I will most likely get up, see my sister who is visiting for the weekend. I might take a drive to the lake to see my Dad. It's mornings like this I miss him, and think about him a lot. I wonder if I would appreciate this quiet Saturday morning as much if I didn't have someone sleeping peacefully beside me.
Yeah, I'll get out of this bed eventually. Pull on my jeans, open the door, face the bright world outside. Make coffee, maybe have some toast. Look out the window and say "Oh my god, look at the frost, isn't that terrible. Winter is coming." But deep down, I'm not dreading it. Because I know winter means many more mornings like this, curled up and warm, reading poetry and listening to nothing at all.
The heat kicks in, the whoosh of the furnace adds some life to the otherwise hushed apartment.
I know my life won't always be like this. Eventually - likely sooner than later - it will get hectic, responsibilities will grow, kids will shatter the silence of a weekend morning (in the best way possible.) Saturday will take on a whole new meaning, and I'll have a whole new reason to look forward to it.
But for now, I think I'll stay right here. Curled up in a warm bed, warm air tickling my face, fall morning light hitting the curtains, not a worry in the world.
An absolutely perfect Saturday morning. (Coffee would be nice, but I'll take what I can get.)