This afternoon is one of those rare, deep-warm pockets of time where I have gotten off of work early, and come directly home. While I listen to the busses and cars go by- the running steps of people trapped in the rain- I am here: in slippers and thin pajama pants; a sweatshirt and hair tied and piled atop my head. There is water about to boil for tea. I'm thinking something with cinnamon and orange and spice.
My lower back hurts a bit, but my lips are in a slight, continuous smile. It's so good to be home.
(The whistle of the kettle. A moment, please.)
The steam from my mug a foot away is exactly what is needed. The smell of the leaves and the spices and the heat surrounding me.
The past many months- since January to be more or less exact- I have been working towards some things that will make me happy. Things that will continue to give me a feeling of accomplishment. Not in the superficial, typical ways that are pumped out and around in the world- but in a way that matters. To me, to those around me, and, in whatever small way- to you.
It feels right. It feels strange. It feels like exactly the right time for it to happen.
I hope you're well out there. I hope you have an afternoon like this one some day soon, when luck arrives on your side dressed exactly as you need her to be.
be well; be loved,
k.
(image: via n01re tumblr)
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