In these unusual times, there is no one time of the day that’s ‘the best’ for me.
Each day seems to bring dramatic change. Sometimes it’s welcome but mostly (or so it seems), change has directed us to places of fear, uncertainty, sadness, cruelty and disappointment.
In the olden days, mornings were my thing. I am still a morning person but these days, I don’t wait for tomorrow morning to come so that I may appreciate it – I pause and try to find the best of right now.
A moment in between things at work to just pause, look up at that sky, breathe and feel the space around me on the top level of an inner-city car park. The open airiness of level 9 mostly makes up for the flights of stairs I need to attack to get in to work. Standing, looking and being still. I think I even waved my arms around a bit while I was there. I went down those stairs ready for act 2 of the working day.
Being just on time at the supermarket to score a rotisserie chicken fresh off the chicken spinner… Despite the pressures of their jobs, everyone at my local Woolies always finds a smile and kind word when I have a query for them.
Friday afternoon was a bit … quiet … at work so I tempted fate and went for a head-clearing walk around the block. I found parts of the university I never knew existed and I found new to me outdoor areas and sculptures around the back of the hospital too.
Home time is second only to mornings in my list of favourite times of the day. It’s always satisfying emptying overflowing pockets before getting changed and hitting the road and stairs for home.
It’s just plain heartwarming stopping at school on the way home. There’s so much to discuss, so many songs on the radio to harmonize to. It’s less rushed than the morning’s journey. We might be tired and weary waiting at the lights for that final right turn but we’re going home. We are going home.