Mindfulness

Picture me at my kitchen table, the sun pouring in, settling on my head, warm around my shoulders, the sounds of little children playing downstairs wafting in. Their voices are like the soft tinkle of wind chimes, gently stirring the air. I am alone in the apartment, my husband and son both gone to work, my daughter away sitting a college midterm, and the silence in my house feels holy, like a sun-filled chapel. There is a manuscript open in front of me, a pen in my hand, and I am reading and editing, but mostly reading, my sense of engagement utter and absolute, my joy almost childlike in its glee, its sense of recognition that yes, this is how it is, and at that moment the thought crawls through my head, I am so ridiculously happy right now. I just want to hold this moment, set it down, remember.