I don’t say this often, but it has been a long week.
After spending Thanksgiving week on Anna Maria Island with my sister and her family, and visiting with my mother, I returned home to a week of one thing after the other.
I submitted a few writing projects, helped hubby curate an art exhibit, edited college essays, homeschooled my kiddos, met with a magazine publisher, lunched with the vice president of a writing group, dropped off and picked up books from the library, cooked dinners, and barely, added a few paragraphs to a novel I’m writing.
This morning, as the sun peeked through the blinds and I rolled over in the warmth of my bed, I breathed in the wonder of nothing.
There is nothing on my list.
There is no where to go!
And no one to see today.
So, I got up, opened my blinds and let the sun beam in.
I walked to the kitchen, grabbed a box of matches, returned to my room, and lit my “Oh holy light” candle from our local candle shop. I don’t plan on getting up again for a while, so I mimic what my son does before any long drive, “I empty my bladder.”
Ah!!!
I grabbed the book, Stump the Librarian, from my nightstand and snuggled under the covers of my white duvet.
I heard chatter in the kitchen,
Cafe Bustelo crept under the door.
And at the sound of the door knob turning, I raised my head from my pillow and sat up — I’m being served coffee in bed.
Here.
In nothingland,
there is nothing holier hearing myself breathe.
Breathe Friends.
Kadine Christie
