Left of Centre
It’s a rainy, thundery Saturday. I’m pretty sure it was supposed to be sunny today, but no matter. The thunder woke me up and that’s all right, it was a gentle, rolling thunder rather than a crashing, demanding one. I’m glad. Glad it’s rainy. Glad it’s Saturday. I’m one of those left of centre people who opens the blinds and the curtains on days like today, letting the gentle gloom and the gray light my home. On sunny days I tend to hibernate, hide from brightness and warmth. I’m not sure what that says about me, but I’m sure it says something.
I see a day like to day as a sign to slow down, to snuggle under the covers and watch bad movies. It’s a time to let my mind wander, my body rest, my soul rejuvenate. It’s the kind of day that has me aching to cook, to bake, to write, to read. There is much to be done in the clouds and the fog, much coziness to be found in my home, with my girls. And I guess that is the feeling I crave, that warm acceptance of people I love who love me, after spending my days out in this mixed up crazy world where we work more than we play, where a poker face is more valuable than authenticity, where love scares people away and need makes us appear weak.
So despite the plans that will be cancelled, the kids who will be bored and begging for something to do, the wet footprints that will be tracked in from outside, I am glad for this gloomy, thundery Saturday.I’m glad for quiet rain and puddles to splash in and lush green grass and blooming fall flowers. I’m grateful for a day to indulge my melancholy, to dwell in some gray areas and not live so reluctantly in the black and white of day and night.