A peaceful morning, My calendar is blank for the day, which means it is a "My Day." That sounds rather selfish, and in some respects it is, although I don't consider it so. It's a day of silence, of corresponding with a few friends, of writing what's on my mind, of lying on the couch reading, and of sitting in the silence.
It's that sitting in the silence that has particularly spoken to me today; Claude Monet cherished it, too: "What keeps my heart awake is colorful silence."
As I sit in the Angel Room, the winter colors are keeping my
heart awake. Sunlight on the maple tree, shadows on the lawn and driveway, cozy homes--all so alive, exuding colorful silence. This is a good My Day, a time of being, not doing.
It's that sitting in the silence that has particularly spoken to me today; Claude Monet cherished it, too: "What keeps my heart awake is colorful silence."
As I sit in the Angel Room, the winter colors are keeping my
heart awake. Sunlight on the maple tree, shadows on the lawn and driveway, cozy homes--all so alive, exuding colorful silence. This is a good My Day, a time of being, not doing.