Good morning.
It's Saturday, October third.
No alarm today.
Or if there was one...
you can forget about it.
The day hasn't asked for you yet.
You don't even have to sit up.
Stay under the covers.
Pull the blanket a little higher.
Hear the rain tapping the glass.
Soft and steady.
Weekdays move fast.
Coffee in one hand, keys in the other.
Today doesn't have to go like that.
We'll take six minutes.
Slowly.
That's the whole plan.
Let's breathe.
But not the careful, counted kind.
Today there are no rules.
Breathe in however it comes.
Short or long.
It doesn't matter.
And let it go...
maybe with a yawn.
Another breath in...
lazy and uneven.
And out...
like a sleepy cat in the sun.
Shallow is fine.
Deep is fine.
You're not doing it wrong.
Your breath knows what to do.
Let it do it.
Now let's wander through the body.
No hurry at all.
Start with your toes.
Curl them under the blanket.
Then let them go still.
Your feet.
Your ankles.
They carried you all week.
Let them rest now.
Your calves.
Your knees.
Let them sink into the mattress.
Your hips.
Soft and loose.
Like they're melting a little.
Now your belly.
Let it be soft.
Nobody's looking.
Your lower back.
It sat in a desk chair all week.
Let it spread Your out.
ribs...
rising and falling on their own.
Your shoulders.
Let them drop away from your ears.
Most of us carry the week right there.
Your arms.
All the way down to your fingers.
Let your hands open.
Palms up, if you like.
Your neck.
Your jaw.
Let your teeth come apart a little.
Let your tongue rest, too.
Your cheeks.
Your eyes.
Your forehead.
Smooth it out.
Like ironing a wrinkled shirt.
And the top of your head.
Like morning light...
finally reaching your pillow.
You might hear a small voice.
Listing chores.
The laundry.
The fact that you're almost out of milk.
That's okay.
It'll all still be there later.
Chores are good at waiting.
The store is open late anyway.
You don't have to earn a slow morning.
You can just have one.
Let these words settle in.
I'm allowed to go slow today.
Rest is part of my week, too.
Just lie here in the warmth.
Listen to the rain.
A slow Saturday.
You, still in your pajamas.
Your hair doing whatever it wants.
If you drift off for a bit...
that's fine too.
The rain will company.
keep you
The kettle can wait.
The phone can wait.
The rain is still going.
Let the room come back around it.
Point your toes.
Reach your arms over your head.
One big, lazy stretch.
Take one easy breath in...
And out.
Now pick one slow pleasure for today.
Just one.
Maybe a long breakfast.
With the good syrup.
Or a book on the couch...
while the rain keeps going.
Picture for a second.
The smell of pancakes.
Nowhere else to be.
Or the weight of a book...
resting in your lap.
Let it take as long as it takes.
It's Saturday.
Open your eyes whenever you feel like it.