Sitting in my silent house. No TV. No music. No podcasts. No Olympics. Just me. The rain outside. The hum of the appliances. The dog wrestling with an empty milk jug. (Don’t ask, I don’t even know. The jug is bigger than him. For real.)
Yesterday: coffee on the deck with the sunshine and the flowers and the butterflies. A kitchen scrubbed clean while singing show tunes. A plan, cooked up with a favourite friend, for a shared blog post about How and Why You Should Send Your Child To Sleepaway Camp Even Though It’s Really Hard and You Will Miss Her/Him. Coffee-and-a-walk date with a guy who… I could actually really like. Maybe. Groceries and the snug feeling of having a full fridge and stocked pantry. A surprise and precious gift of loving comments from others on this NaBloPoMo journey.
This morning: a workout – a sissified version of the ballet barre I used to do every single day of my adolescence, but I am working up to more. A new smoothie recipe (spinach, blueberries, green tea, greek yogurt, honey, coconut oil. Surprisingly delish.) Time with my favourite blogs. Coffee with my best school friend, who has always taught 1st-grade-next-door, and is moving to 3rd-grade-upstairs and perhaps only teachers know how very far away 2 grade levels and a flight of stairs can really feel. A short walk in the rain.
|Photo by quinn.anya|
Up next: A few more pages of my book. Another coffee, with a friend I met in kindergarten, lost track of after junior high, re-discovered thanks to the social media I am currently avoiding. An errand or two. Some laundry.
A realisation: this is not a social media fast, nor a tech fast. This is a noise fast. A break from noise in all in its forms. In this quiet, time feels expansive, fluid. Simple and clean.
I know this is not what you usually come here to read. Thank you for humouring me. I hope I don’t disappoint.
*The Dixie Chicks, who say so much, so much better than me.