In the wee small hours of the morning when the whole wide world is fast asleep I tip toe through the shadows into my comfy chair to take a load off my feet and reflect on the remains of the day. Often when I slide into my chair I realize I have not stopped moving and standing all day and it just feels so darn good to sit down and sink into the chairs arms… thus the term ‘armchair’. And if you’re lucky enough to have a chair with arms that hug you, then you’re in heaven. Every muscle in my body was aching and I didn’t even know it. It’s been nonstop GO for the entire day. There is still more to do but I will have to leave that for another day as I don’t think I can move another inch. At this point even getting myself upstairs to bed is going to be a chore. Thus I linger just a while longer.
There is something private and deeply satisfying about being up while others are sound asleep in the same house. Something about snuggling into my comfy cozy chair by the fire when all is quiet and still with just enough illumination for me to sit and write. There is a peace and a clarity that helps me sort out issues that I can’t even focus on in the hustle and bustle of the day. I can hear the furnace air blowing sporadically , I have a load of laundry in that spins rythmically in the background and now it’s raining. Sounds of the rain pelting the deck- so soothing. Reminiscent of waves crashing the shore in the warm Kona night. I surrender to the nighttime as I pull my legs up on the chair under me to make myself small and unobtrusive.
As I study the flames from the fireplace flickering and dancing on the wall it occurs to me there is no other place I would rather be, in the home I share (on this particular night with my two kids and husband.) This is a rare occasion these days so I hold it close and cherish it. I know I shouldn’t be up compromising my immune system and making myself vulnerable to illness. But deep in the dark grey shadows are voices that urge me to stay, so I pause and I wait and I listen, for one more word, for one more lovely thing that the night might say.
0k already… I’m going to bed.
The Red Plaid Apron 