It was a rainy Sunday morning. It was not yet lunchtime and I felt ready for a nap as we walked lazily through a hardware store.
Later, having returned home, I reminded myself of the long ‘to do’ list as a reason to get up off the couch. My body craved rest and the warm blanket around my legs, the gentle hum of the gas fireplace, and the big book in my hand anchored me into the moment. I remembered this poem and made a decision about how I was to spend the next few hours. Some Sundays are for house and garden work, but rainy days offer an invitation to go within. I acquiesced. I gave myself permission to take rest.
Rainy Sundays are for self-care.
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A year ago on the blog: Seeking Enchantment.
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