Rest

I have been much occupied with stillness. So much so, that even those tasks which require some effort, are weightless. It is a gift.
There is stillness in my home. It's cleanish, since I have no extra children underfoot.
I have few pillars in my day, so I have been sleeping later. I am no slave to a schedule. This is joyous.
I have time to think. And read. And to play.
I am reading Oliver Twist. The subject matter is bleak; the tale is sad.
O! But the words on the page! Perhaps I shall be in love with Charles Dickens next. His words are woven together beautifully. I inhale each phrase as an intoxicant. A word...a paragraph...a page! Sometimes I lose the flow of the story, and simply linger over a section which particularly captivates me.

Were we created to be in perpetual motion? Our culture is enslaved to the cell phone, and the agendas that we must not disobey. It's very noisy. It sucks us dry, like a monster. Nothing remains at the end of the day, save a lifeless shell with nothing to offer.
How can our people love, and serve, when there is nothing left to give?

These are my thoughts after a gleeful day. I feel refreshed.

Today I lounged in the sun, again. I actually watched two movies. I got out for one of those yummy shaved-ice things (without the children). I talked to a couple of dear friends. I had silence, even, in my day. It was glorious.
Now,I am going to snuggle up with Mr Dickens and a glass of vino.