What defines your perfect day?
You think you know, but you don’t. We can’t know a perfect day until we’re smack-dab in the middle of it — breathless and thankful and bursting with smiles that come from gut-wrenching, heart-breakingly beautiful bits of ordinary. It’s a million twisting, curling, swirling movements and moments.
Swirling streams that capture curiosity and drag it into the current with a definite belly-smacker.
Slowing long enough to see the beauty and vibrant color in the midst of everyday drab.
And love. You can’t have a perfect day without whole-hearted, gut-busting love entrenched and twisting your soul into never-ending knots.
A perfect day can unwind and unravel and slither in unnoticed
until SUDDENLY it’s there!
And you freeze and gasp and giggle.
Perfect moments are wrapped up in our every days. If they were any closer they’d bite us. That’s why it’s important to tread softly with care and concentration.
Perfection has absolutely nothing to do with us. It’s a living, breathing thing that can be shocking … amazing … brilliant … simple … all rolled into one.
Or it can be subtle. Slowly winding its way through inlets and outlets and alcoves. Perfection swirls just beneath the surface of our everyday view.
They see it. They notice them … those perfect moments and glorious hours and precious periods of swirling, whirling rosy-cheeked happiness. Children see things more clearly, more easily. They’re not clouded and coerced into unconsciousness by the driving force of living.
They’re just …
Jumping for joy.
Because they can. Because it comes naturally. Because it’s the thing to do every minute of every day … until we learn not to. And why? Why not jump for joy at least once a day because we can?
Swirling moments of head-thrown-back-in-wild-abandon joy.
There’s so much to see when you look up.
And so much not to. Which is really the point. Take your eyes off the daily grind of the ground and look up at the swirling, whirling wild blue yonder.
Smile bigger than your face.
And then something truly amazing happens.
The debris of the day is washed away by the swirling, whirling sands of time in that one moment when you stopped. And looked. And listened. And breathed. And felt it …
A moment of joy. Perfection.
I am a writer, blogger, wife and homeschooling mother of three. I love wide open spaces, cooking, gardening, decorating, travel, vintage treasures, sunshine on my shoulders, and bare feet.