I did what I wanted. I didn't do what I didn't want to do. I drank two cups of coffee instead of one and didn't even get dressed until after lunch, which I ate alone with only the sound of the dishwasher for company. I played the piano. I read a little. I walked the dog. I took a nap. I wrote a poem.
And I didn't want it to end.
It's that profound desire to hold on, to savor, that makes me wonder why I wait months and months to take a day that brings me so much joy and so much renewal.
For some people, today would not have been a blessing. They would rather have spent it in a crowd of friends, hiking, or maybe touring a vineyard. And that's the thing, isn't it? Our ability to discern what it is that both brings us peace and invigorates us at the same time is the point at which we have learned to pastor our own souls. For too long, I stayed away from the seminary of my own heart, distracted by the need to perform and believing if I took time away to feed myself, I was selfishly robbing the people in my life of what they needed.
But, time spent in regularly pastoring my soul keeps me from feeding others with empty hands and allows me to break off a piece of my wholeness and offer it freely, without fear that it is all I will have for tomorrow.
And so, I will not wait so long for the next time.
Ode To A Day Home Alone
Creative stirrings make
lukewarm coffee as the bathrobe
spins out like a ballerina's chiffon,
the riverdance flowing around the living room rug,
and the dog sleeping on, unaware
of the freedom that comes with
solitude.
