The Saturday morning is cool, calm, quiet. I hear only the sound of leaves rustling in the trees as the wind blows. In a moment of quietness, a bird chirps. I take it as a sign that God is listening. The bird does not chirp again.
I had planned to watch DVDs in bed but there is something so rare and so peaceful about the trees and the wind outside my balcony doors that I find myself compelled to stay on in the living room. Just for a little bit longer. I take deep breaths and stare outside often, as if I am somehow trying to capture and immortalise this beautiful calm within me. I have spent many weekend mornings here alone, but today, something is different.
Today, I feel peace. I am relaxed, content. I hesitate to turn on the television because that would break the quiet. I want only to hear the trees and feel the breeze that wafts in through the open sliding doors. So I read a little bit. And then I write. Because it seems like the right thing to do.
Today, I feel peace. And I am grateful. I am reminded of the things that truly matter and suddenly, all my concerns and niggling frustrations seem so insignificant and unimportant. Perhaps if I wait a little longer, they will melt away. Perhaps if I sit here somemore, I will be able to bottle this up and take it everywhere with me.
