Sunday mornings promise hope. Some view Sundays as just another day. They wake to an alarm, grind out work, catch up, send emails, and prepare to hit Monday madness full speed ahead. Others take a different tactic, sleeping late, making pancakes with family, doing laundry, chatting with friends, sharing the one real homemade dinner of the week, and bemoaning the inevitable prospect of a new week.
For me, Sunday is the day everything changes. Waking before dawn there is no reason to hurry. Instead of checking my phone, I check in with my body. How do I feel? And I wait for the answer. In the silence, I discover surprising revelations. Each movement is deliberate as I rise, make my coffee, and head outside to a brand new world. The quiet grants me space to read, and I sip from my cup, enjoying a serene transition to life.
In my garden, tight flower buds slowly unfurl their petals and turn exuberant faces toward the rising sun. Fresh flowers are an indulgence. They all find a place in my heart. Crocus, tulips, peonies, lilacs, forsythia, and Lily of the Valley are seasonal favorites of Spring. They lift my spirits and offer reminders of special moments. The intense fragrance of a rose can invoke sweet memories of a gentle smile, and I respond in kind.
Today renews possibilities, fills my soul with fuel for action, and restores hope.
What is your perfect Sunday?
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Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer