So, according to some of my readers, my last blog post was upsetting to them–sad, in fact. It wasn’t supposed to read that way, as it was written in response to a word prompt–HOPEFUL. How many people who have everything are really hopeful for change? How many have gratitude for all that they have? Appreciation? Creativity? Dream about the future? Probably not many. I am hopeful, and yes, have gratitude, appreciation, am creative, and have dreams of a better future. But, I am also appreciative of the here and the now, which is something I am forever reflecting upon.
After a crazy day on friday, I missed my morning yoga class, but I was lucky enough to make it to a yoga class later that evening. The class was taught by an instructor that I haven’t seen in quite some time, and I was overjoyed. We chatted a bit after class, thrilled to have seen each other. The impending snowstorm held off on Saturday morning, just in time to assure my safe arrival to work. Yes, it was snowing already, but it was beautiful. Classes were cancelled after several hours, and with nothing to rush back for, I took my time, and though it did take three times the amount of time it should have, I arrived back home safely too. My son was already at the stove prepping his own stir-fry, and I walked in just in time for him to offer me some of his noodles…major score! With my noodles in hand, I changed into comfortable clothing, jumped back under the covers, and caught a movie with my son. After the movie ended, we made chocolate chip cookies from scratch, which I enjoyed profusely; The two of us catching up, all while prepping, mixing, baking, and snacking. I then watched several hours of the ongoing marathon of my favorite show, This Is Us, and continued to watch the snow fall…and fall…and fall. It continued to fall well into the evening, and I continued to marvel at my luck…nowhere to be, no risks to take, and each of my family members exactly where we were meant to be, and all of us, safe and sound. The temperature continued to drop, the hour grew late, and each of us headed to bed. I had run the dishwasher and done two loads of laundry, but they could wait until the morning, and, for a change, they did. When I awoke, there were 8 inches of snow that had fallen, and luckily it was Sunday…a day that I could legitimately be snowed-in. Yes, the shoveling did need to be done in order to get the cars out of the driveway, but what was the rush? I indulged in a cup of hot chai, and made myself some hot farina, wirh a pat of butter and a drop of almond milk, just like my grandma used to do when I slept over as a kid (boy, do I miss that woman) and later on, made pizza for myself for lunch. (And, of course, there were home made cookies from yesterday for snacking.) The hubby took care of shoveling the driveway, so I made fried chicken and cous cous for dinner. The day was slow paced, low key, I spent it in sweats, and ended my night watching the golden globes, caught Meryl Streep’s fabulous acceptance speech and was thrilled to have seen a few of the movies and shows up for the awards.
It is now late…very late. The laundry is going (there is always laundry), the dishwasher, again, is going (there are always dishes to be done), and the house is quiet, but that just means that the house is full, it’s time to return to normalcy, there’s food on the table, or in our case, over the last 24 hours, in a travel mug or bowl on our laps, and we are living, breathing, appreciating, and moving forward toward our dreams, with gratitude and hope.