A quiet Saturday morning

I am enjoying Saturday morning. I could have gone skiing or to yoga. I could be cleaning the floors, walking the dog, or doing office work but instead I am enjoying Saturday morning. What makes this Saturday morning different than others is that I set the intention earlier in the week not to plan anything. I did not set an alarm. I came awake gently after a dream about old places and felt secure and content. I was fairly certain that it was morning , that it was a good time to look at the clock. And it was. It was about 8:00 am. So I slid out of bed, stepped into slippers, zipped on a fleece, petted the dog, and turned up the thermostat.

Those few moments are the kind I love most. They are very ordinary but very human. All over the world and throughout history, people come awake, greet their families, and prepare for the day by building a fire, turning up the heat, putting the kettle on. The sameness is what appeals to me for we are all the same as we open our eyes to the new day. There is vulnerability and genuineness, and then our brains kick in reminding us of where we are, who we are and what we have planned for that day.

I came downstairs and opened the blinds. The brown clusters on the maple tree are laced with early morning light and the evergreens look darker than usual. The sky is pale pure blue with long spackled shreds of white cloud. It is going to be a beautiful day. Sunny, clear and crisp.

As a treat, I decided to make coffee rather than tea. I am sipping it now and feeling the start of a caffeine buzz. (One thing that I have discovered is that when you don't drink coffee regularly, you really do feel its stimulant effects). I will finish my cup and then pour the rest of the carafe down the drain as too much caffeine will disrupt the equanimity that I feel.

The phone just rang. I debated whether to answer but I did. My equanimity is still with me but my writing flow is gone. I am looking forward to the rest of the day and what it will bring.

Namaste,
Ginny