I’m not sure if you feel like this, but for myself, this is how it has to be to write a blog post. I need a small space of peace in my heart.
Without it I can’t come to the computer and expect anything worthwhile to flow from fingertips to the keyboard.
In order to be able to express exactly what it is I’m feeling, and with purpose I need to be in a quiet spot, looking for contentment, in an earnest search to find joy in the most ordinary of things.
It requires a conscious putting away the things that worry, and affects, ignoring inner voices, focusing on a small window of opportunity to enjoy life.
I believe that fully.
If it’s not given to you, make it happen yourself
You alone have to find your space, it can’t come from someone else, but it can come from something, an experience a moment, a day. It can be lived, or it can be recalled from memory.
Mornings are good, the cat satiated after his 5 am feeding lays in a snoring pile on the foot of the bed. The birds woken, and fed their young, their chores done for the moment, neighbors sleepily eyeing half full cups of coffee, wondering if the day was worth getting up for.
The celebratory roars of the weekend warriors attacking their lawns with every power tool known to man has yet to start. One deafening cloud of noise layered on top of another, a giant game of dominoes in the neighborhood as each seeks to outdo the other, but that’s for later.
The clank and jangle of teens with their rattling noisy pickups slipping down the country roads to first jobs are fading from the ears. Even the under construction house across the street is quiet, no radio playing from the shingled roof, nail guns silenced, voices hushed, no porta-potty doors banging, engines revving, generators humming…as of yet.
Solitary or social?
I have a choice to make, camera or keyboard. I choose the solitary camera, not quite ready for the world yet, slipping outdoors, under sunshine streaming across grass that held onto snow only a month or so ago.
The Boo woken by an awkward silence in the house, wanders out the cat door towards the warm, dry, grass, his unexpected soft meow startles me. This time the thing that brushes against my leg is a welcome ball of black shiny fur, and not a biting insect. Our run of hot dry days means a lawn bereft of dew this early morning, and he is enjoying teasing the bees as they light on the petite golden flowers of the dandelions. Practicing his hunting skills by trapping the buzzing insect under his paws and leaping up with joy as only those newly wakened from a good cat nap can do.
I choose from greening leaves and fresh blossoms, enjoying the realization that I am not stripping away singular blooms, or newly green leaves from branches any longer, that there is more than enough, and it’s fine to take my share without worrying that nothing is left for nature.
The cat follows me from bush to bush, cornering invisible foe by the vegetable garden, ducking under the branches that are waiting for a burst of energy to be constructed into a melon, and squash rack. Each time I turn to click his familiar furry face, he faces away defiantly. I’m not ready for my closeup he seems to say, I’ve got morning breath, and I have to be brushed first. I pay him no mind, he’s beautiful to me, as welcome as the morning sun, I’ll take what I can get.
There is joy in just being outside, in this the first real day of warm mornings, and heated sun and the shadows of a small bird darken our world momentarily as it flys overhead. .
And ahead of us lays an entire summer of heat, buzzing insects, iridescent sprays of water from sprinklers, flowers, home-made ice cream, and porch sitting.
A small space of peace, growing as the days get longer.
Jen @ The Light Laughed.
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