Permission Slip

My favorite time of day is in the morning, when the sun is shining high and bright through the trees, and the roses are dew-dropped. When I can ground into the earth with my bare feet and bits of wet grass cling to my arches.

Nesting a warm mug of coffee between my palms, with just a splash of milk, and a grainy hunk of bread slathered heavily in golden butter.

And holidays spent outside, absorbing the delicious sun into my skin, and my hair remains untamed and frizzy, and wildly dancing on the summer winds.

I love those sweet hours before the evening falls, when everything looks as though it was dipped in honey, and I can sneak in a merienda of coffee and cookies.

It’s those nights spent looking up at the stars, a fire popping and crackling, warming my thighs.

And Francisco, who welcomed me into his cafe, explaining to me with passion his selection of marzipan cookies. “Give her two shots in the macchiato, this is her vacation”, he said, as the barista pulled my espresso.

The spontaneous visits—with the front door wide open, and a glass of wine, and a plate of fruits awaiting us inside. Sitting amongst the garden, and sharing full hugs. Filling my home with life. Because the sound of our voices returns us to the essence of self and true joy.

The song of birds, the sounds of a laughing child, grasping onto the fleshy arm of her mama as they take an evening walk.

The sound of waters cleansing us.

I grant us this permission slip. To live the lives we all crave to live. To take in these deep breaths of being, and revel in its wholeness. To realize that life is about taking lunch breaks with real flatware, and beverages poured into porcelain mugs, and not feeling guilty for the hour we spend catching up with a friend. And buying ourselves a fresh bouquet of flowers to fragrance our lives with the scent of slowness.

It’s the small things, these daily rests that grant us the chance to live each day full of life and living.