interior decorating the soul, pt ii...
Outside the window, the snow is white and the sky is slate, and in the distance they merge so perfectly that it feels as if the world is tucked into a cocoon woven solely to keep the sun out. It feels lonely even when the early morning cars go by, their tires rolling through the dark stained slush. I open the window to breathe it in, this isolation, and it tastes as sharp as it feels. I can hear Aravine stirring in her crib, and Mark's breathing in the other room, and yet, on this cold greyish 5am in a city of half a million people, I feel completely, totally alone.
It is exactly what I've been needing.
I cherish aloneness, solitary 5am's and space to breathe. It recharges me, comforts me, and should never, ever be confused with loneliness. I greet 5am with reverence rather than desolation, and it has never let me down. This morning was no exception.
I was once asked by someone dear to me what my room looked like, what decorated my core, my soul, my being. And what I described to her, and later, on my blog, was what my room had consisted of for as long as I knew it existed.
This morning, peering out into the snow, I realized that for the first time in memory, my room had changed.
Thank you, universe. You knew it was time, even when I didn't.
It is exactly what I've been needing.
I cherish aloneness, solitary 5am's and space to breathe. It recharges me, comforts me, and should never, ever be confused with loneliness. I greet 5am with reverence rather than desolation, and it has never let me down. This morning was no exception.
I was once asked by someone dear to me what my room looked like, what decorated my core, my soul, my being. And what I described to her, and later, on my blog, was what my room had consisted of for as long as I knew it existed.
This morning, peering out into the snow, I realized that for the first time in memory, my room had changed.
Thank you, universe. You knew it was time, even when I didn't.