Since it's winter I think we could change the word feet to the word boots. Still has the same meaning in the end.
The best days are busy, but not too busy. And the busyness is that fulfilling, heart and soul-healing sort of busy. There is plenty of outside time, preferably in the woods, spent just listening. To your own soul, the wind in the treetops, the sound of your heartbeat.
And when you pause at the end of the day when the sky is still barely lit, there should be fir needles and hay and bits of damp moss in your messy hair.
There should be gratitude for that day and just the faintest excited expectation about what is to come tomorrow.
The body should be moderately tired and sore from the physical work of the day. And there should be hunger for simple, nourishing food. (sometimes that translates into ice cream!)
And then you gather around the fire with a cup of tea and those you choose to love. You absorb the warmth of the heat and radiate love and contentment.
That's a good day. That's when our eyes sparkle.
1 comment:
A perfect day, described perfectly. Messy boots, messy hair. Contented life. Thanks, Julie. You've blessed me today.
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