A frequent conversation in our house on the weekends sounds like this:
Him: “What are we doing today?”
Me: “I don’t know. What seems good to do today?”
Him: (lists a bunch of things that neither of us want to do and we consider chores)
Me: (suggests a bunch of magical things that aren’t possible to fit into a weekend)
We do always manage to figure out a balance. Recently, we had what I’d consider a perfect day. We spent time resting and nourishing. We ate good food, most of it made at home. We love cooking at home, but also the economy is making us love cooking at home even more.
It was one of those February days when the sun makes an appearance, and just for the day, we all forget we are still in the belly of winter. In the shaded areas, the grass is still frozen, but we go outside anyway, wearing clothes that won’t keep us quite warm enough. Because we’re just trying our best to will Spring into arriving. We took Jeffrey to the Garden of the Gods so we could see all the tourists salivating over this miracle in our own backyard. We discussed in great detail how cute it was that Jeffrey’s nose was going wild with all the novel smells there. We napped and played music through the house. We read our books on the balcony while the sun baked our faces.
That day reminded me that I can either do sacred things, or a lot of things, but not both.
The sacred things for me have become the moments where I feel the Divine. These moments have changed so much in the last few years. I feel the Divine- this sacred thing when I am moving slowly. When I tune into the crunch of gravel under my feet or the heat of my coffee in my favorite mug. It’s a sacred thing to me to run my fingers through Michael’s beard and to gently twist his mustache tips. To smell the top of Jeffrey’s head and how it’s just a bit musky because he’s been outside more lately, sweating and playing and getting stinky like a dog ought to be.
“No thank you(s) and yes please(s)”
Fear? No, thank you. At least not for long. No thank you to this fast, hustled, and dissociated life. No, thank you to the experiences that pull me outside of myself.
No thank you to the fucking grind. No. No, thank you. I want to live more in “yes please” than “no thank you.”
Yes please to a soft bed.
Yes please to companioning pain.
Yes please to his wet nose.
Yes please to all the trees.
Yes please to the glass of wine and good conversation.
Yes please to knowing I’m not the one to help you.
Yes please to knowing when I am.
Yes please to knowing there is nothing to fix, just something to be felt.
Yes please to the beat of my own drum.
Yes please to bone-crushing hugs.
Yes please to me and to the divine.
Yes please to this life.
I’m making space for more of these sacred (to me) things, the “yes please,” not only because I quite literally can’t go as hard, fast, or productive as I used to, but also because I don’t want to. I don’t care to do a lot of things or stay very busy. I want to do the things I like, and love, and that feel sacred. And I want to do them with as much ease as possible. I wonder what feels like sacred things to you? Where do you find connection with the Divine, and how has that changed?
What is your “yes, please?”
I’ve always said that you are wise beyond your years dear one!! Love your writing!
Yes please to early morning walks in nature.
Yes please to the hot cocoa in a comforting mug (usually my snowman mug named Carlton, even in the summer).