I like the quiet times.
When there is a lull in the day.
And the hectic pace stops.
I like the clock that I can hear tick-tock. It beats at one herz – what an interesting number – one cycle per second, the rate of a heart beating.
I like to take a walk, with no thoughts, no agenda, nothing to solve.
I like to stare out into space and see what appears.
I am open and willing to receive.
I see the morning dew on the grass, sparkling and twinkling, and find it hard to look away.
I like the quiet time smelling hot apple pie baking.
I like to feel the autumn leaves fall around me, and the spring pink blossoms, and raindrops, and snow.
I like the quiet time of picking blueberries.
I like the quiet time of hearing trickling water over stones in a brook.
And I like to see stones laid lovingly to make a wall or walkway.
I like the dreamy feeling of quiet time.
Flowers appear just by thinking of them.
I don’t have to try so hard – simple things, easy things.