I have recently come to realise that I find it hard to spend time doing nothing; I want to fill it with something constructive – making / learning / designing / organising / planning. I am consumed by this nervous energy, writing endless lists and concurrently amassing interests which inhabit more of the precious (mental) space we have to use (I say we because what I do inevitably affects/ implicates J).
But yesterday, we drove to the sea-side. We ate lunch with J’s parents. I bought a book from Berkelouw, and two vanilla bean macarons for later.
J ate his in small bites between sips of coffee and strums of Led Zeppelin in open G.
And I ate mine with chai, as I sat on a rocking-chair by the window.
I forgot how much I love watching things outside.
There used to be a dog that lived next door. The first time I saw him, I thought he was a statue (his fur was mottled grey and he would sit so still) but then he started to bark and I realised that he was just a very still grey dog, watching a bird in a tree. He had so many funny quirks like that, and I admired them each from a distance.
There are so many things which get missed when one doesn’t take the time to appreciate them.