A gentle fog blankets the world beyond me. All is quiet save for a few songbirds and the gentle, familiar tick-tick-tick of my keyboard. My cat, Sylvanna, sleeps next to me, curled up and content, the gentle rise and fall of her chest a comforting constant in a still home.
Each click of the keys beneath my fingers is a release. Each word cathartic. The world pulls at me, calls me to act, but for now, I choose to ignore it.
Here there are no work emails, no house cleaning, no yard work. There are no expectations, and there is no fear of failure. Here I carry no burdens beyond the next word, the next letter. Here there is perspective, and it’s uncluttered and uncomplicated.
Moments like these are precious, powerful. They are beautifully rare, intoxicatingly simple. Moments like these are a gift that steal upon you in the most unexpected times. They can’t be forced, they can’t be cajoled. They can only be surrendered to.