What is to lose by doing this?
Only our blindness that leads us to think our busyness is more important than it is.
Sundays are for laying back on the grass and staring at the sky.
They are for alighting in conversations about love and not about money. Yes, they are separate…or were before we always worked.
Sundays are for being in the garden. They are for noticing a new mark on the face of someone you love. For watching ants, for picking wildflowers while singing.
Even for the faithless, there's a convenient refuge in the shade of this lovely day out....a moment to suspend disbelief...and belief because, who cares when the bliss of life accidentally enters the unsuspecting heart....who minds the reason.
We need special times, when the phone is off; endless hours are open to aimless giggling swaggers down and up the beach. No schedule, no plan, no big decisions to make. All debate on hold, all weapons down.
Nobody to be, no hurried statements that could herald tears. Just a tiny calm in a tiny cup of stars at the tiny tea sipping break of your loving, living, precious life.
