The Next Thing
August 6, 2010
Looking down as the movie came to an end, I focused on my hands. To my surprise, they were sewing a button on a skirt. There was a small pile of mended items in front of me. Evidently I had been mending.
There’s no cause for concern. I hadn’t blacked out. I had simply caught myself in the act of doing the next thing. In fact, I had been doing the next thing for several days, existing within a tier of consciousness I hadn’t tapped into in a while, and I had grown used to these surprises.
I was on vacation. Home for a week, and dedicated to doing whatever came next without a list to measure my progress or lack thereof. Without a list, but far from listless, I cleaned drawers and paid bills and had lunch with my sweetheart. I took naps, and watered plants, and cooked if I felt like it. I wrote and didn’t write, read and abandoned reading, listened to music and sat in silence.
I went to bed satisfied and woke without worry—a true vacation.
A nice thing… being pleasantly surprised by one’s own spontaneity.
A nice thing... 
What a lovely piece, Sarah. I’m home for two days this week myself.
Myrna
Haven’t gotten around to cleaning drawers, though …
Aw…what a relaxing image you paint. I want a vacation like that! Thanks for once again starting my day with a smile and a feeling of gratitude.
Time to care for yourself. Nice.
Can you come do my laundry next time you want to take a break?
I’m going to have one of those weekends. One of these weekends. One of these years. Swear to god, I am.
oooooh. Jealous. Neatly sensed and sweetly told.
That sounds like a very nice thing, indeed. It’s amazing how frame of mind changes our experience of what we do . . . in a relaxed frame of mind, cleaning out drawers can be calming, as opposed to some major chore . . . beautiful.