Today I took a long walk by the river, and saw purple and green streaks in the wood grain of the pier. My knee did not hurt. My body felt good.
Today I ate breakfast on a park bench and threw tiny pieces of food to the sparrows. They were little and big, different colored feathers, different size beaks, different personalities. The brave ones charged forward toward my feet and snapped up the food. The timid ones sat in a nearby bush and examined me, trying to decide of I was a predator. I sat with these tiny things and watched them and smiled.
Today I did four loads of laundry.
Today I lit a candle and worked on a upcoming article assignment.
Today I picked Jane up at school and the weather was good enough to go the park. The trees have no leaves. The landscape was gray. She ran around in her bright pink coat, pretending to be a secret spy superhero. I watched. She laughed. I laughed.
Today we took the train home, and I started dinner early.
Today, just now, I sat down at this computer and thought, “What a great day.”
And then I thought, “What was so great about it?”
I’ve learned that good days are not exciting days. Good days are everyday days. Calm days. Days when nothing breaks down and nothing hurts in your soul or your body. Days when you get the privilege of your morning walk, the time to write a few words down, the energy to clean your apartment, the easy smile of just saying “hello” after a day apart with your loved ones.
Good days aren’t extreme highs of excitement.
They are somewhere in the middle.
They are like today.
I am thankful.