This morning, I woke up early and went downstairs. The house was quiet. I lay on the couch under two blankets and popped on the television.
It’s not something I do often. On most days, there is a clear routine, and days unfold like they do and I follow this beautiful path we call life. It’s not like I don’t love my life. But today, it was just time to sit.
I watched Law & Order reruns for two hours, until it was time to meet my friend for a spinning class. And you know what? It was a perfect morning. Absolutely perfect.
I didn’t feel guilty. I didn’t worry about how or when I’d get work done or whether there was laundry to do or think about how it was the perfect amount of time to make soup for my family for this cold week ahead.
I just sat.
And then, after a crazy-good workout, a shower, a pop-up brunch in downtown Detroit with my lovely husband and the necessary grocery shopping to feed my family for the week, you know what I did?
I flopped down on the couch, pulled a blanket over my legs and popped on the television once more. Just to relax. To breathe. To think of nothing and do nothing and just take the moments as they come so that, once restored, I can return to the work world and the world of family responsibilities with energy and enthusiasm.
This concept of a weekend is really quite a gift. If we never truly take time to just do nothing, how can we ever be restored enough with the energy to go on?
A few weeks ago, when we had five consecutive snow days, I can’t say enough how lovely the two were when we literally could not leave the house. Mountains of snow and sub-zero temperatures made it dangerous to venture outside, and so all we could do – all of us! – was be here, be together, just BE.
In fact, we were coming off two full weeks of vacation from school, but I can honestly say that it wasn’t until those two snow days that I actually stopped. Breathed fully. Had nowhere to go and nothing to do but notice how much I love my family.
We made lunch to eat together at the kitchen table. I had time enough to make mac and cheese for one child, hot instead of lukewarm in a thermos, eaten in a loud lunchroom. I did not eat my food while reading work to do or catching up on emails.
We sat down as a family and cherished the length of the minutes to just be.
So today, I am patting myself on the back for taking the time I need to restore, rejuvenate and celebrate the gift of time. Of life generous enough to let me slow down and rest so that I am more than prepared to jump back into my fast-paced life and do great at it.