What’s your ideal Saturday morning? Are you doing those things this morning? Why not?
My ideal Saturday morning is quiet. So quiet you can hear a pin drop, the clock tick, and the water from the melting icicles on the window frames drip. I can hear the birds outside singing in the trees and hear the squirrels scampering over the snow on the porch. Every now and then the toot from someone’s car horn will waft towards me but it doesn’t disrupt the quiet.
I begin the day by lying in bed after waking, reveling in the quiet and solitude and warmth of my sheets. I’ll slowly rise as the sun climbs higher in the sky. Noon: I wash the sleep out my eyes and change into clothes suitable for the day. I make my way downstairs for breakfast and eat while admiring the handiwork of nature—the snow on the bare trees, the buds on the trees waiting for spring to bloom. After eating, I wash the dishes and pack them away then begin setting up for a day of creative work—whether writing or drawing or simply thinking. It’s a quiet day. An unhurried day. A day spent musing while writing, listening while drawing, sighing while thinking. It’s my perfect Saturday.
Continue reading “In Search of Peace and Solitude in a Noisy World”
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