A Little Bliss

February 26th, 2009

Most days are a jumble of good, bad, indifferent–I stutter through, beginning something, putting it down, getting interrupted, growing bored, picking up another thread and losing it, starting and stalling and forgetting where I was going when I got sidetracked. And then there are days like today, when I worked hard but effortlessly, when I worked steadily but wasn’t drained, when I was actually able to finish things I started. A day of small but measurable accomplishments when I burned creative fuel all day but had something left over to kindle a fire tomorrow. When I saw a visiting friend out the door tonight and came in from the dark, I felt as if I were seeing my home with fresh eyes–the shelves of books, the turquoise chair, a green and black ceramic bowl, pink tulips from the supermarket–all transformed and glowing in the lamplight. Nothing had changed except the way I saw it, and nothing about my day was extraordinary except that I was momentarily able to step back and perceive its shape and texture and realize what a gift it had been.

3 Responses to “A Little Bliss”

  1. Jane says:

    It’s the days of quiet accomplishment that, for me, make the difference between feeling good about myself or not.

  2. notmassproduced says:

    i could do with a whole week of these kind of days

  3. frida says:

    I don’t have all that many so they really stand out from the rest!