When I woke up this morning, I felt very refreshed and decided to let the day be organic. Yes, my home needed cleaning and my book needed writing. But the weather was so darned perfect that I couldn’t treat it lightly. Sunny but with a cool breeze. Being in the moment meant immersing myself in that.
Packed a bag for the gym, including my morning pages notebook and a book called Plan B by Anne Lamott. Worked out, mostly lower body on the weight machines. Enjoyed a large cup of coconut coffee while I wrote my morning pages. Sat on a bench at the waterfront and read the book in a purely picturesque setting — sunshine, clear skies, the Manhattan skyline. Some highlights:
” … when you pray, you are not starting the conversation from scratch, just remembering to plug back into a conversation that’s always in progress.”
“When God is going to do something wonderful, He or She always starts with a hardship; when God is going to do something amazing, He or She starts with an impossibility.”
I had earlier put a call in to a friend asking if he was interested in grabbing some breakfast before heading into whatever he had planned for the day. He called back as I sat on the bench. I told him it was so perfect outside that we should walk to the diner (about 12 blocks). And so we did. Had eggs and pancakes and bacon. Leisurely, meaningful conversation. Reality vs. simulation.
We meandered back. Decided to sit in a cafe and read/work for a bit. That’s what’s so good about our friendship. We can just be sometimes. It’s easy. He got up to refill his coffee and an elderly woman approached me as I sat in the booth alone. She said, “I had to tell you how relaxed you look and how much I admire that. I need to relax more. You have such peace about you.” I thanked her profusely. She asked what I was working on. I told her I was going through my journals looking for material for my book. She marveled at that. “Are you married?” she asked. I shook my head. She said, “That’s why you have peace.” Her husband then came by, as their food order was ready. My friend returned with a knowing smile and asked, “What did the Universe have to say in the form of that woman?” I told him. We both laughed, as I had just talked to him about peace and incorporating it into my book.
This all reminds me of a funny little philosophy I have that so sharply differs from most of the women in my extended family. It goes like this: If my house is too clean, there’s something in life I’m missing out on.
How true that is today. My living room needs to be dusted and my bathroom wiped down. But I wouldn’t trade one minute of my day for a spiffy house. How very sad that would be.