I look up from writing tomorrow's to-do list as something exceptionally pretty by Yoko Kanno begins on iTunes. The end of my Montblanc pen taps absently against my lip as I think. I set the pen down gently and take a handful of sour dried cherries and raw cashews from the bowl on my desk. I chew them slowly savoring the taste before washing them down with a swallow of Acqua Panna. In that perfect pause, I feel the way my old t-shirt neatly molds my broad shoulders and the gentle arch compress of my SmartWool socks. In that moment of perfect, simple luxury, I find that there are few places I'd rather be.
The moment passes, as it always does, but I smile. Such a moment will find me again--very soon, I suspect. Tomorrow, I will rise and groom and grocery shop and wash the car and inventory my possessions and clean, but for a moment at 12:20, I found perfect stillness.
The moment passes, as it always does, but I smile. Such a moment will find me again--very soon, I suspect. Tomorrow, I will rise and groom and grocery shop and wash the car and inventory my possessions and clean, but for a moment at 12:20, I found perfect stillness.