You’ve survived Christmas, New Year’s, and the after Christmas Blues. Your New Year’s resolutions may or may not be sticking. You’ve got projects in various stages staring you in the face. What to do?
Get out of the house! You heard me, get out of the house. Drop everything and vamoose. Winter is almost gone, spring hasn’t sprung. The cold winds are still blowing. You may or may not be going stir crazy. But it is time to breathe.
I watch the sunrise most mornings, coffee in hand, over my back gate. My husband’s alarm goes off every 5 minutes, as he tries to pry himself out of bed. My new teenager is awake, waiting until his alarm goes off before bolting out his door. The twins are blissfully unaware that when reveille goes off, I’ll be in to pry them out of their nice, warm cocoons. For a few minutes, I get solitude.
I can watch the sky change colors, catch the screech owl in the act, or watch the bunnies looking for food on the other side of the fence. But, the fence is in the way and there are six houses that have a good view of me in my back yard. It’s all a little too close for comfort.
There’s a place I know of that has room to breathe. Other than an unfortunate building blocking the sun, there’s a muddy little pond and a short walking trail. At sunset, you can hear the traffic, but this place is empty. The seagulls fly in, you can see what I call mountains. Technically, I think they are foothills. They look like they are covered in a green shawl, wrapping their arms around each other to stay warm.
After about 4 in the afternoon, the temperature does a nosedive. The sun starts going down. People make their way home in the grind of traffic. I rob the change jar, wait for my husband to get home, and make a mad dash to Starbucks for a hot coffee. I head off to this little place to catch the sunset.
Some sunsets are fast, while others linger, as if the day isn’t ready to be over. Some days there are reds and oranges in the clouds. On others, the blue simply deepens into night, with the stars coming out one by one.
Yes, the view is good. What makes this place special though, is not just the view. I can sit for a couple of hours. No one knows or cares who I am, because there’s no one there. No kids asking for milk, no husband complaining about his day. No pets looking for treats, and no knitting projects staring me in the face.
I can look at the color play, clear my mind, and reach for peace.
The mountains have trees and bushes, bobbles on the shawl. The sky has colors that maybe I wouldn’t have chosen together, but at times, they are stunning. Pinks and oranges, sherberty, sitting side by side. The blues, of course, sink into darker shades.
This is my view. Maybe you need something different. Perhaps you like to get lost in the crowds. Stores are starting to put out their spring wares. Windows decorated with brighter colors. Distractions are everywhere. Find your place. Breathe deeply, relax your shoulders. Take it all in.
What you do afterwards, well, that’s up to you. Old projects may still be old projects, but then again, you may find yourself finishing them with an eye on what’s next.
Just take a few minutes to forget it all.