A slow morning is a happy morning
I woke up early. No alarm. My mind wasn’t making much noise nor rumination. Air felt fresh in my skin. My breathing felt clear.
I got up. My eyes were still kinda shut but I could glimpse my own body as I was using the toilet. From that point of view, I felt content, even proud of it. Connected.
I weighted myself, like every morning. It was a bit up from yesterday. I logged it in my weight tracker and remembered last night with joy. I may have ate something that can gain you weight, but I remember it being worthy and not at all excessive. I forgive myself.
I washed my face. Water temperature was fresh. I washed my teeth, I don’t even remember it now, but I believe I was content with how I did that as well.
A friend texted me about his potential new illness, I’m worried, I didn’t listen to his audio message yet but I read the transcript. It’s bad news, I decide I will get some sun before listening and responding to him.
I sit in the balcony, the part where direct sunlight bathes you. I have little clothes, just my underwear. Sun is not hot, it’s perfect. I remember is good for me to get some, so I do a 5 minute breathing. I try to concentrate. I’m not successful the whole time but I feel I am successful enough. I feel proud that I achieved a level of awareness to feel truly conscious and let things be.
I think of all this words I’m writing here. I make an espresso with N (Nespresso). A little bit of milk. I feel privileged to have this stuff.
I go sit in my laptop, open my writing app and pour this words. I think I was able to convey what a slow morning is for me. Or a happy morning. Or just a morning of being.
I think I should proofread this, especially the verb tenses. I decide not to, I won’t publish it if I do. If you got this far, is because ver tenses didn’t matter.
Thank you for reading.
A|