off days
January 22, 2016 § 6 Comments
It was a long week. Even with the grace of a three day weekend, Tuesday felt like Monday and yesterday felt like a betrayal by Friday.
Each day I stumbled out of bed on the wrong foot, tired. My son made a messy mistake at the start of a new experience. My daughter rebelled against every morning routine. New pants fell apart and winter hats were lost at school.
The further we fell out of rhythm the more I fought the imbalance, overcompensating until I surrendered to a simpler effort.
I endeavored to start the day well, to offer care and respect; homemade breakfast and kind words at the door sealed with a hug. Cold walks with our dog, hands free and mind centered on the ground beneath my feet as I picked a path around ice and through snow to find stillness in motion.
It was an excruciatingly unexceptional week. There was no poetry in the madness, but there was beauty in the smallest detail so long as I remembered to look.
We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out. -Ray Bradbury
scribblechic 
And we will then appreciate those beautiful days all the more because of it 🙂
Great post Marie.
Very true, Mark.
I love the heroic effort the everyday sometimes takes–and that I know there are millions out there making it, despite the bad news, despite the craziness.
Beautifully said, Kay.
Indeed, sometimes you have to look much much harder for the good. Sometimes it just isn’t there.
But hope is always there.
My mother used to list the misfortunes greater than my own. I don’t like to scale one problem against another, but it helps to scale my burdens against my blessings.