Today we have no plans

I am sitting cross-legged on an excellent chair. Drinking coffee, typing words. Today, we have no plans.

The foyer of this place is beautiful. High arches, wraparound internal balcony on the second floor, domed opaque glass for a ceiling, all lit up by the sun, without any of the heat. The only other soul in this palatial retreat is Rach, curled up and surrounded by her journals, like an intellectual cat.

This week had its moments. Two nights ago I rode my bike out of work at 3am. Last night I had clients until 9pm. This week had deadlines and bills and walls.

But today, it's all done. The muscle of life contracted, clenched, choked, but has now released again. Breathing free.

I suppose this is how everything happens:

Tense. Release.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Conflict. Peace.
Pain. Healing.

I suppose, if I'm being completely honest, today wouldn't mean anything to me without the preceding conflict. It would just be another day. Boring, even. But, because of the perspective afforded by conflict, I can truly appreciate the zero.

Today, we have no plans, and I am joyfully grateful, and I am being in, and enjoying every second of, this moment.