All day long, as far as I know,
nothing is happening.
It’s not the day for grocery
shopping.
I visited my mother yesterday, and
she has no doctor’s appointments, needs no forms filling in, has milk in her
fridge, and my sister is visiting her today.
No visitors are coming.
It’s not a day when I’m needed to
give a lift in the car.
The magazine article deadline was
yesterday – done, sent in.
It’s not the day to go to church.
There are no postal deliveries
expected.
Nobody is needing extra attention
because they are leaving or coming home today.
We have no builders.
There’s nothing to take to the
post office.
I have no proofs to read.
These last months I’ve been
writing writing writing, every day writing writing writing – and yesterday I
finished the second of two novels written this year and sent it in, with all
support documents – the ninth book in the Hawk & the Dove series, the last
of that series. I have nothing else planned, contracted or scheduled.
I am booked for no funerals.
I don’t have any laundry worth
doing.
The wild rain storms have stopped,
there’s a breeze and a beautiful sunrise.
Other than feeding the crow
family, the fox family and the badger family (the wild furry woodland one, not
my husband), I have nobody who can’t get their own meals, here.
The house is clean and tidy.
I have everything I could possibly
want and don’t need to go shopping.
There are no charity kerbside
collections to get up and put things out for.
It’s not garbage collection day.
It’s not recycling collection day.
I (finally) drove out to Catsfield
to drop off various people’s unwanted books at the charity book bank.
I’ve fed the young trees and the
rain storms have watered them.
This week, nobody has a birthday.
I have no
speaking/preaching/retreat leading engagements.
Nobody I live with cries several
times a day, needs their bottom wiping or can’t tie their own shoelaces.
I don’t have a dog, watching me,
waiting . . . waiting . . .
There’s nothing I feel guilty
about because I ought to be going to it and don’t want to.
The others who live with me have
tended the garden.
This whole day there are no plans or obligations and nothing to worry
about, nothing to dread and nothing to accomplish. The last time I can remember
that happening I was four.
Well, hallelujah, eh?
18 comments:
This describes exactly how keep trying to arrange my life, so there are many, many quiet days. You describe all the little and large things that sabotage my efforts. And if I am honest I sabotage myself quite often. Thinking up all sorts of 'busywork' to procrastinate over having a 'quiet day' or 'quiet time'.
Thanks for this Pen, very thought provoking.
Quiet days are a blessing indeed, and a rarity in our house.
But did you enjoy it or feel slightly uneasy because you were not rushing to do things?
Daisy - "I keep trying to arrange my life so there are many, many quiet days". Yes. Me too. I have the feeling the days allotted to us are precious beyond measure. I want to savour them. I want to go on sharing and loving and working and praying - but I do want space to savour the days. xx
Elizabeth - It's still the same day, and I'm enjoying it immensely. I did some laundry after all, and hung it out to dry in the breeze (I don't mind if it rains). I brought down a chest from the attic to store my out-of season clothes. I walked up to Asda with Hebe for cat food and bread and lemons, and picked up sticks blown down in the storm on the way home, for kindling. It's a peaceful, happy day. I'm going to write a letter to my friend who's husband is ill, and take an extra chair down to Komorebi for our Lammas prayers on Saturday. Then I think I'll watch the new Agatha Christie serial on i-player :0) xx
Thank you Pen your emails were spot on especially the association for Christian writers.
God Bless You
San xxx
Nothing makes me happier than looking at my calendar on any given evening, to see that the next day has total white space. Thank you for staying at it so diligently to put these beautiful books into our lives. God bless you and yours, dear Ember....
What a beauteous day! But the thing that caught my attention was that you felt no guilt. Now that is reason for shouting Hallelujah! That is true peace of mind. I do Catholic guilt so well, even when there is nothing I should be doing, and so I throw peace away, looking for things to do. I think I need to adopt your attitude, Pen. Thank you.
Hi San - oh good - glad that was helpful - they're good people. xx
Hi Julie - yes - a zen day :0) xx
Hi Mary - This song helps https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ogQ0uge06o xx
Every 2nd Friday. Just me & the cats lolling about in blissful nothingness. The cats have the right idea: a patch of sun, yummies to eat & a comfortable spot to park their butt. I should be a cat. They understand life.
Wonderful :0) xx
Sounds wonderful to me. Enjoy it, you deserve it.
Blessings Gail.
:0) xx
I miss you on Facebook; I hope you return when you're ready. I always love your posts here and your words never fail to remind me of our strangely parallel interior experiences. Peace to you and I'll keep checking back here.
Michelle.
Hello, friend :0) Yes - my choices on Facebook and the interests of my friends meant a relentless bombardment of posts about racism, political oppression, people on death row, suffering of animals, the destruction of the earth -and in the end it became overwhelming for me. xx
That's fantastic, enjoy!
DMW
Quite understand about Facebook
Lovely blog, I hope you enjoyed your day. God bless Rose
:0) xx
These are energizing days. Days devoid of human demand. Alone but not lonely. Time to do what matters, even if this is nothing. More of them are needed.
Amen to that! Even two in a row would be quite nice! xx
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