I am still in my pajamas. For those of you who know me, this is quite late for lounging around. Usually, I am up and dressed by 6 a.m., 6:30 at the latest, and ready to face the day.
But there is something about a Saturday that demands I stop in my tracks and just be in the day. Maybe it’s remnants from my days of observing Shabbat or maybe it’s an internal clock thing that needs to stop and refresh at least one day a week, but when Saturday comes, I rise as early as I usually do, and settle into the couch to watch a movie, snuggle with my kids, linger over my cup of coffee, and just take the day slowly.
I had the best of intentions to get dressed and go to synagogue, but I don’t see that happening at this point. Same goes for working out – there will be no run in the sunshine on my quiet neighborhood streets, no swimming laps, no yoga class.
Just peace. Just stillness. Just family altogether in one place, quiet and relaxed, loving each other, loving our home.
A true day of rest when none of us has a soccer game and there are no deadlines to meet. All work will get done in its own time. The earth will not shatter nor will any dreams die if we take today slowly and savor the stillness.
It’s my daughter’s 11th birthday, and I keep wanting to burst into song, but she is still asleep in her bed. The other kids remain in flannel. One is sipping tea. There have been lots of hugs already. A Phineas and Ferb episode. The first episode of The Roosevelts.
At one point, the sunrise was so vibrant, the entire doorframe between our family room and the living room was illuminated in shining angelic light so bright as to silence us all. My little guy climbs onto the arm of my desk chair to wrap his arms around me as I type.
The day begs for forgiveness, for solitude, for love. And I just can’t resist. I surrender. The definition of love is in my lap. And life is infinitely good.