I came home tired last night, ankle aching (it’s mostly built of imagination and wreckage at this point, so… sometimes it aches ferociously), cross and irritable over the commute (I got stuck behind an exceedingly, obviously, impaired driver, who veered back and forth, randomly stopped while straddling lanes, drifted into the bike lane repeatedly, and drove very slowly) and just generally – I wasn’t at my best. I had stopped at the store for dinner, though, and I was happy to be home.
…What the…? I pull into the garage… the clean, tidy garage, which is… clean… and tidy. I know I didn’t leave it that way this morning… Huh. Wow. Yep. Both “huh” and “wow”. Nice. I walk into the house, and… oh damn. House looks great too, like, top to bottom. Clean. Tidy. Some small changes in the way things are arranged that really improve the comfort of the floor plan. I’m in mid-exclamation (and appreciative thanks), when my Traveling Partner becomes aware of my physical discomfort with my ankle… out comes a handy ice pack… he makes sure my foot is elevated… then goes to the kitchen, and makes dinner for us. It was a lovely evening. I definitely went to bed last night feeling well-loved. 😀
I’m sipping my coffee this morning, contentedly; coffee was one of the handful of items on my shopping list last night. (No tea? Nope – tea is generally for when it isn’t time for coffee. LOL Personal preference. Although I may yet, one day, switch permanently from coffee to tea, that day is not today.) It’s a lovely morning. I’m not taking anything personally, or struggle with the details, or fussy to myself over some small thing – it’s just me, this coffee right here, and a new day.
It’s enough. 🙂
I hope your ancle feels better. I have been drinking yerba matte in a traditional manner, with gourd and bombilla. I have cut back on the coffee without missing the effects. The tea is an acquired taste but the feeling is amazing.
Thank you for sharing, Tom! I enjoy tea. Coffee is sort of a “thing” with me – all the way back to sips from my Mother’s coffee (often Folgers, so loaded with cream and sugar it tasted almost of caramel), and my first cup of G.I. coffee in the mess hall in basic training. For me, there’s an experience in a cup of coffee that transcends flavor (or even quality of brew) or caffeine. Drinking a quiet cup of coffee, alone with my thoughts, was one of my earliest experiences of seeking mindfulness… I just didn’t have the words for it, then. 🙂