It is amazing how restorative a Saturday alone can be. I am shocked that it is only 11:47 am. My day has contained unimaginable excitement - but all in my head.
Recently, I have been waking up early, then looking at the clock and going back to sleep. Every time it happens, I have a thought, in the tiny area of my brain that is actually awake, that I should start getting up when my body seems to want me to. This morning, when the tiny tap of a crow landing on the roof made its way through to my consciousness, I looked at the clock and saw that it was only 7 am. It was Saturday, and if I wanted to I could turn over and sleep until noon. Instead, I got up.
I had one thought.
Yoga or write. These are the two things I should be doing every morning that I almost never do. I don't know why I find it so hard to do these things that I absolutely enjoy. I must be punishing myself in some way, making myself slog from sleep to work (or television) without any time to get in touch with myself or the world.
Yoga seemed too hard, and writing, in comparison, easy. So I picked up my laptop and started typing away into my journal, the one where I can say anything, no matter how mundane (funny that I would feel worse about posting something boring than about posting something embarassing). I wrote for a bit, then got up and did some easy yoga poses.
I did things like put away dishes and read bits of my book (
My Last Movie Star, by Martha Sherrill, which I am not enjoying as much as
The Ruins of California, but I am enjoying), because I wanted to wait until the library opened to go out into the world. At quarter to ten I walked over, got a coffee, and sat with a pile of books. They've renovated the library recently, and it was full of windows and light and chairs to sit in, and I basked in the glow of sunshine and words. Somehow everything lined up; my caffe misto tasted delicious and I was suddenly full of ideas and energy and excitement. About a number of things. Well, two: what to do when I finish my MLIS (it involves writing more, and potentially more school - a fact I'm sure will delight my parents, and the critic inside me who thinks that I must not be cut out for the "real world", until I realize I'm already there, and doing okay by my true standards), and a blog idea (it also involves writing more, and is a big idea that I want to unveil in time). These two ideas started thrumming in me as I sat there. I could feel them in my pulse. I don't remember the last time I was so excited about something(s). Certainly not in the past few years.
All this in one Saturday morning. The weekend, books, sunshine and coffee - my favourite combination.