It's midweek. Wednesday.
Pondering whether Thursday should actually be midweek, three days either side of it.
The weekend is not actually separate from the week, just different.
Time is measured in so many ways. For us, right now, it is measured by class bells, traffic lights, stolen moments and sleep. So new to us who delight in an easy morning rhythm and pick our way slowly through the day's moments.
And after I have kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear that I love her forever and always, everything seems to fall away and there is space. Space to do those things that seem so distant sometimes when we are together and my awareness of right now is vague. A space that seems so vast yet vanishes so quickly until we are together again. This space is different.
I am in the middle. The middle of finding a different rhythm. It has caught me unawares. Some days the vast space is filled with necessary tasks, some days with an 'out of sync ' kinda feeling, like today.
I settle into some creating so I can sing to my rhythm