Sunday, February 8, 2015

Nothing Special. And Everything That Is.

Feb. 8

It has been a good day. I know my challenge is to write on a positive event that happened during the day, but sometimes it is just too difficult to choose. The interesting thing is that this particular day was really nothing special. It was, however, filled with many things I love the most.

I began my day with my backend sitting in a pew. I would not say that I am a religious sort, only that my spirituality is critical to my definition of who I am. Since I was sixteen, I have taken myself to church. Church and I have an on again, off again relationship. I do not feel the need to be in a building designated for worship in order to actually worship. And organized religion, just being honest, constitutes only a tiny portion of what I consider to be my spiritual being.

Spirituality, to me, encompasses a sense of compassion, of interconnectedness, of seeing myself as one small piece in the puzzle of the whole. Yoga helps me come to this. Yoga calms my mind and feeds my soul. I was able to spend time with my practice today. I began a good book, too, on the topic of mysticism. Curled up on the couch with my readers perched on my nose, I explored the subject a bit before turning to a magazine I had found on spirituality and health.

My husband made his famous goulash for dinner. Those who know me know how much I love beautiful food.

I spent time with my two youngest, graded some exams, and unpacked the groceries that my husband and daughter brought home from the store.

I sit penning these words, now, with my little white dog at my side, flannel pajama bottoms and fuzzy socks warming me while a fire blazes off to the side.

There is a comfort in routine, in sticking close to home. There is a sense of grounding in normalcy, in doing those things that care for the body and repair the soul. What has been good about my day? Nothing special. And everything that is.

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