The Only Flaw in this Beautiful Existence
Every night I wake up at 3:10am.
It is exact, as if my body has made a pact with the night and signed it without my permission.
At 3:10am I have a routine. First, I wake up and I look outside. My eyes silently plead with the sun to start rising and prove that I have made it to daybreak, but each morning it is dark and I know that it is 3:10am, again. I then contemplate getting out of bed or waking Jeff up just to hang out, but finally, I close my eyes until the sky fills with the red and orange of a New Mexico sunrise.
I don't know why I have gotten into this routine and I haven't quite decided what to do with it yet. It isn't as if my soul or mind has unfinished business or worry, or that my stress keeps me up even when my eyes beg to be closed.
No, those days are over.
Some days it seems that I have not only started a new chapter of my life, but that I have completely changed books.
The quarantine has forced me to rest, to not jump into any commitments, to not try and meet too many people. Instead my days consist of "checking the chickens" and watering our blossoming vegetable garden. I roam the yard to check on the fruit trees and pick some weeds out of the rose bushes. I stand in the wind as I look out at the field of dancing wheat, just as romantic as you would imagine it to be. I sometimes walk to the shop to see what project Jeff is engaged in and then come home to clean up or make a special treat. In the afternoons I sit in the yard and read a book, soaking in the sun and tranquility.
Yes, (it is not a social media illusion) my life has truly become the peaceful, routine, quiet farm life we all imagined it might be.
I've found that in these past few weeks I have become much more even-keeled. I am less prone to outbursts of uncalled for frustration or angst. I find that I smile and laugh more, that my heart doesn't beat so fast and my fears don't overwhelm quite as often.
I wake up every day at 3:10am.
And that is the only flaw in this beautiful life I now live.
It is exact, as if my body has made a pact with the night and signed it without my permission.
At 3:10am I have a routine. First, I wake up and I look outside. My eyes silently plead with the sun to start rising and prove that I have made it to daybreak, but each morning it is dark and I know that it is 3:10am, again. I then contemplate getting out of bed or waking Jeff up just to hang out, but finally, I close my eyes until the sky fills with the red and orange of a New Mexico sunrise.
I don't know why I have gotten into this routine and I haven't quite decided what to do with it yet. It isn't as if my soul or mind has unfinished business or worry, or that my stress keeps me up even when my eyes beg to be closed.
No, those days are over.
Some days it seems that I have not only started a new chapter of my life, but that I have completely changed books.
The quarantine has forced me to rest, to not jump into any commitments, to not try and meet too many people. Instead my days consist of "checking the chickens" and watering our blossoming vegetable garden. I roam the yard to check on the fruit trees and pick some weeds out of the rose bushes. I stand in the wind as I look out at the field of dancing wheat, just as romantic as you would imagine it to be. I sometimes walk to the shop to see what project Jeff is engaged in and then come home to clean up or make a special treat. In the afternoons I sit in the yard and read a book, soaking in the sun and tranquility.
Yes, (it is not a social media illusion) my life has truly become the peaceful, routine, quiet farm life we all imagined it might be.
I've found that in these past few weeks I have become much more even-keeled. I am less prone to outbursts of uncalled for frustration or angst. I find that I smile and laugh more, that my heart doesn't beat so fast and my fears don't overwhelm quite as often.
I wake up every day at 3:10am.
And that is the only flaw in this beautiful life I now live.
Meredith, look at this two hours or 2 1/2 hours before Dawn as an opportunity to use your skills in writing. Start writing a book about your experiences I think this would be a great help to others who are going through Difficulty. You have a good start from your blog... begin there. Aunt Ellen
ReplyDeleteI'm pretty sure you need a Tennessee Walking Horse, Meredith. 310 - wake up, pour a cuppa, put on your boots, jeans and a warm jacket (over your jammies --- who'll know?). 330 - head out to the barn. (You have a barn, right?) Take your horse from his stall, groom him well, toss him back in his stall to enjoy his breakfast. Go back inside, pour another cuppa, wash your face, brush your teeth, wake Jeff, enjoy breakfast. Consider changing from jams to regular farm clothes - no problem if you opt out! Back into the jacket and boots, and go ride! You're welcome :) Hoping this finds you well and happy!!
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