Belle is asleep. Rae and Johnny are cuddled together playing ABC mouse in my bed. And Garrett is on a guy's trip to Vail with some buddies. I've found myself cuddled up in 'the nest' of our ginormous sectional (the nest refers to the meeting point between both angles of the couch, which is always crowded with pillows and blankets, and easily the coziest spot in the house), and I wanted to write. I don't know why. Well, it probably has a lot to do with the weather.
The weather has been moody in AZ this week...something I didn't realize I missed so much. I can't remember the last time it was cloudy and dim outside. Or the last time we walked out to wet cement and humid air and that fresh rainy smell. I like living in Arizona, but every time I get a glimpse of this kind of weather, my soul takes a deep breathy heart swells and I wonder why I don't live in Seattle year round. Something in me aches for rain and cloud-covered skies, at least on a semi-regular basis. Maybe it's the softness of the air...a contrast to the glaring sun always blinding us through our windows. Maybe it's the forced "slow down," as we find ourselves drinking hot chocolate and cuddled up inside. Maybe it's the clothes...I've always preferred sweaters and long pants to shorts and t-shirts. Either way, this moody weather is making me moody. But in a good, happy, thoughtful way, I think.
I've spent a considerable amount of time lately analyzing my life. What do I do each day, and why do I do it? And furthermore, how do I do it? Am I happy, forced, labored, begrudged, willing? What are the things that bring me joy? And what are the things that don't? Am I picking the right things to give my time and attention to? Am I fulfilling the purpose of each individual day? Am I missing out on my life? Am I writing the narrative for any future regrets?
I am fully aware that we just get one life. I can never redo this day. And there are an unknown number of tomorrows.
And then I fall deeper into the hole.