I slept in today, which is unlike me, but was definitely a good thing.
I’m sitting here in my dressing gown at 11.20am, after a slow breakfast, thinking about how lovely it is to have this time.
And I’ve decided, as I finish my tea and watch Flora rolling around in the place where the sunshine warms the carpet, that I’m going to take this morning as the text, if you like, for my week.
I don’t mean that I’m going to swan around in a wine satin dressing gown as though I am a 1920s ingenue with nothing to do except arrange a few peonies in a vase and decide which feather to wear in my hair at dinner this evening. I think I’d get bored with that very quickly. (Also, I am mysteriously out of both peonies and feathered headdresses.)
I mean that I am going to expect ease and gentleness and calm from this week. I shall walk through the week in the confident expectation that everything will go well, and be easy. The words for my next project will flow and bubble from my fingers. Parking spaces will materialise when I need them. The sun will shine. People will be in when I call them; knitting patterns will behave themselves; arrangements will fall into place. (As I write this, I’ve just had a three-email exchange that has meant an arrangement for tomorrow night has fallen into place, as easily as an apple dropping from a tree.)
I’m not expecting the universe to magically rearrange itself according to my whims. I’m just heading in to the week with hope and good heart.
As ever, you are welcome to join me.
Let’s see what happens.