The sound of Sunday

As I was laying in bed this morning trying to ease my way into a wakeful state I spent a few minutes taking in the sounds around me and suddenly it occured to me: it's Sunday. A day that for most people means a slower pace, lazy brunches with friends or a lover, a peaceful afternoon spent on the couch with the Sunday Times, a bike ride exploring a new neighborhood. It's funny, the typical roar of traffic out my front door, the hustle of people rushing down the sidewalk to make the morning train and the slamming of the front door as neighbors head out to their day, were absent. I never realized it before but Sundays have a sound: soft, slow, peaceful. It was the first taste of realizing the sacred power of a Sunday. I rarely stop to enjoy a weekend day, usually I'm working right through them. As a freelancer weekends have little meaning and occasionally they exacerbate the reality that work doesn't stop for the weekend.

But today, I had a Sunday. I had a moment to languish in the soft Sundayness of the day. I took myself to lunch. Alone. With the Sunday Times. (HEAVEN). Strolled down the street at a leisurely pace & called my best friends. Oh Sunday. I love the sound of it.