twenty-four + one

twenty-four hours in a day never seemed quite like enough. twenty-eight, i think, would make things much more manageable. one extra hour for flipping through pages and highlighting and typing responses. one extra hour for folding and organizing and disinfecting. one for laughing and storytelling and listening. one for quiet:


one to sit with a blanket and a cup of tea and ignore the to-do list that has reached two-pages
one to avoid the "i should shower ats...." and the "will i have time fors...?"

one to sit with a blanket and a cup of tea and my journal.
one to sit with a blanket and a cup of tea and jesus.


this morning, i woke frustratingly early. and since there are only twenty-four hours in this day, i left my bed unmade, i stepped over sweaters and socks on the floor, i didn't touch the dishes or plan an english lesson, i didn't turn on 30 day shred or go on a run, i didn't transcribe interviews or analyze data, i didn't write poetry or edit papers.

i sat in the stillness of morning in my near-empty home, after 148 long hours and too much cherry coke and moments of joy mixed with crankiness mixed with longing.

i sat with cs lewis and was happy.

"Happiness had not come to her early in life. A thousand years of it would not have made her blasee. Her palate for all the joys of sense and intellect and spirit was fresh and unspoiled. Nothing would have been wasted on her. She liked more things and liked them more than anyone I have ever known."

--CS Lewis, A Grief Observed

(Can this be about me??)