Permission

I slept in today unintentionally and yet not because I didn't set an alarm.  It was the kind of entry into the day that is jarring.  I stared at my clock in disbelief.  I put on my glasses and looked again to see that I wasn't seeing things.  The house was so quiet and the neighborhood so peaceful despite the fact that it was closer to lunch time than breakfast.  I wasn't happy that I slept away most of the morning.  I questioned why Lily let me sleep so long to which she replied, Well, obviously you needed it Mom!  In my head, I rallied against the idea that I should be so indulgent as I tallied up all the things I could have accomplished in the hours that I stayed prone.  I felt heavy and grouchy instead of light and refreshed.  Motivated by guilt instead of enthusiasm for the rest of the day, I got to work on that perpetual list that lives forever in my head.  As I unloaded the dishwasher, I remembered the leisurely and delicious dinner we enjoyed last night.  Jess joined us for a new menu tasting and just like old times we talked around the table until our glasses were empty and the candles expired.  I softened just a bit.  Pretending to be European and eating dinner at 10 o'clock is good reason to be a little tired early the next day.  I sorted laundry and came across the slightly sour t shirt I wore for our walk yesterday.  Jess and I met at the lakefront for a loop and we just kept going because it was a perfect day and where else did we have to be.  I softened more remembering how worth it that was.  Sunshine, fresh air, woolly clouds, waves, sweat and a walking partner...that's pretty much like winning the lottery.  I watered the plants as the cats wandered around the patio stalking chippies.  A hummingbird whirred in toward my steptocarpella.  Peanut heard it before he saw it, and just like yesterday he was intrigued.  He wasn't the only one.  That little insect-sized bird hovered over him equally curious.  My Mom sends me the hummingbirds.  It's our thing.  I'm a marshmallow: soft and gooey.  I don't know who sends me the songs that seem to speak to just the way I feel in the precise moment.  Music as a missive...a gentle reminder from someplace else, but where?  The Zombies are on now singing It's the time of the season for loving. I'm hearing It's the time of the season for living.  Be. Here. Now. I am remembering because everything else can and will wait.  What's left of today is going to be beautiful because I feel present and grateful and ready to receive.