Kids in school, two working parents, holiday bake sales and business trips. All these things fill our life with meaning, but sometimes I just need life to slow down. Calm, without the storm.
Calm is staying home and making pizza on Friday night.
Calm is lying on your back and looking up at a ceiling colored with Italian frescoes.
Calm is sitting in a cafe and writing with your little boy.
Calm is watching a movie with the cat.
Calm is a wall covered in ivy.
Or trees changing color outside the living room window.
Calm is the perfect soft boiled egg.
Calm is burying Eli in leaves.
Or sitting for a minute by yourself.
Calm is knowing that people love you enough to help you carry your burden.
The best calm is discovering there are more people in the world who love you than you realized. You were never alone, but you’re even less alone now.
Maybe calm is feeling the life in those narrow seconds between past and future, when things aren’t over and haven’t yet started. There is a lot going on in those seconds.
And very little room for worry. As far as we know, the storm isn’t here yet and may still be a long way off.
There is just an unexpected calm, with family and UNO and a glass of gluhwein.
And heated floor tiles in the bathroom.