Happy monday, friends!
I feel I should say that to you, because Monday is such a bugbear isn't it?
Of all of the 7 days in our week Monday is the bête noire, the nuisance, the one to just get out of the way.
As I sat in my empty classroom at 9am this morning eating my porridge from a Sesame Street bowl I was already dreaming of 6 o'clock when I could put my coat back on and go home.
Wishing my life away, in effect.
When that golden hour arrived and I rushed out of the school and onto the subway with my mind set on getting home and putting my yoga pants and the kettle on I didn't stop to people watch, to reflect on my day, to be present.
It was only when I exited the subway and was stricken by this beautiful, whipped pastel dream of a sunset that I stopped, stood, appreciated and contemplated.
One moment, in my entire day, that I did that.
And that, friends, wrapped a great blanket of melancholy around me.
Because I realized in that one solitary moment that I have been failing miserably in two of my aspirations for this year; learn to be more present and in the moment and practice mindfulness.
I shouldn't chase the sunset.
I should be present for all of the moments in between me getting out of bed in the morning up until I see that sunset.
I shouldn't count the minutes but be an active observer of them: paying attention to every emotion, every sight, sound and smell. Every child's smile or teacher's words, every 5 year old's hug or the way the light reflection changes through the window with the passing hours.
What a sad thing to let these moments pass by unnoticed, to let them fade un-acknowledged and unappreciated into another Monday 'done and dusted'.
It sounds so easy.
Tomorrow I will try harder.