I wake up with a peace in my heart — the kind of ease and grace I am constantly trying to bring myself back to each and every day. I hear a light tapping melody; calming, soothing. My brain scans where and what could possibly be creating the harmonious sound. Ah, rain drops splashing against the window panes that outline my bedroom. I lie still and listen to the Earth’s song, as if it were a tune composed just for me on this gray Sunday morning.
Thoughts begin to crowd my head and I try with all my might to keep the door closed and not allow them entrance into my mind as long as possible. I feel like a child — before technology and responsibility, before stress and financial pressure. I want to create and the endless opportunities of this world are at my fingertips. Suddenly, this child inside and the adult I am come colliding into one unified being. Me — here now.
I breathe lightly and still hold the stillness of the morning in my chest. Nothing to do and nowhere to be if I please today. Even though there’s always so much to do and many places I could go, I prefer to bathe in this serenity I’ve stumbled upon. This space of infinite possibility. Because this feeling is needed to balance out all of the times I’ve overworked and overextended myself. This morning is what my mind has been craving amidst the stresses at work that jumble my thinking and leave me hitting the pillow feeling scattered and out of control at night. This peacefulness is the nurturance my body longs for after all the days spent bending to my will, even if I’m pushing it to spend time devoted to activities that are not always the best for it. This cleansing, natural symphony is the healing my spirit needs from all the traumas I’ve lived through — picking myself up, dusting myself off, and pushing forward without properly addressing them.
I feel it in all authenticity and with every fiber of my being that some extra time in bed this morning will do me better than any medicine I could ever be prescribed. The warmth of my room and the blankets around me reflect the self-love I have cultivated emanating from the deepest parts of me. Because taking this time and being mindful of its importance, that is self-worth. I am worthy of rest. I am worthy of contentment and peace in my body, in my surroundings, in the very life I live. Then it hits me — this is the feeling I should and could be having each and every day, in every moment, at any second.
How do I come back to this amid the overextending? How do I come back to this amongst the stress? Where does balance lie for me in each moment? Am I worthy of more ease than I have now in the life I’ve created for myself? What does a new path with more of this feeling realistically look like? And how do I begin to get there right now?
Originally published at medium.com