Therese Ralston’s Lazy Day Off
With 12 moments of Me Time, I made memories of perfect contentment.
Reading a Swedish author in bed, I came across something that made me sit up again. I’d originally intended to lull myself to sleep with words, but was wide awake and all too aware instead. Gunnar Ekelof felt that every person on the planet was only given 3 minutes of pure joy in their life — all up. I felt angry that this guy reduced our ultimate happiness down to 180 seconds; separate seconds spread over 80 or 90 years.
I felt robbed.
When my peacocks woke me early at their first morning flight, I couldn’t stop thinking about the few real glimpses of joy we have. I wanted to fill a day with some.
I thought, I don’t want to go to work today; I’d really like another day off after the weekend. I put it out there to the universe, then phoned to let them know. It was okay as long as I could work the rest of the week.
My wish was granted.
One free day.
- I had a long, leisurely shower on massage mode; using a heady, fragrant scrub all over. Slathering on lashings of perfumed body lotion while my skin was still damp made me feel rich.
- I ate a perfectly ripe mango for breakfast, savouring each morsel. I brewed tea leaves in my favourite porcelain teapot, watching steam rise from the spout before sipping slowly in my own thoughtful tea ceremony.
3. In my garden I saw at least 200 new African Daisies out. Growing like weeds, the purple, pink and white blooms cascading down the hill look magical, like a fairy kingdom. I walked straight through, ignoring the temptation to weed. and taking in the latest view of my 20-year creation.
4. I want to smell the roses, but I have none in flower. I wave a bunch of bees away and pick lavender to inhale instead. After so much deep breathing, I pick fresh mint leaves to nibble, enjoying the burst of flavour.
5. I hang yesterdays washing on the clothes line. The sun warms my hands, sizzling the back of my neck while I peg. I chat to my bored peahen, hiding under a nearby bush as she sits practically motionless on six big beautiful eggs. I hang things perfectly, in order, shirts on one side, shorts on another, dresses to the left, socks and underwear to the right. I’m unhurried, wanting to waste the time I have time to waste today.
6. I watch as my gorgeous peacock does a mating dance to a juvenile peahen. I sit on the pavers and enjoy the shimmying and fluttering as he shakes his tail feathers and pirouettes, flapping his heart out, trying but failing to impress. His dance is funny and exquisite, full of pomp and self love. He likes flashing his behind, as if his fluffy butt is the better side.
7. I make a deluxe iced coffee. Hazelnut syrup, cinnamon, milk, a dollop of ice cream and ice, lots of ice. Whizzing it in my Magic Bullet until so lush and frothy it tastes divine. Sitting in the middle of the house, beneath our glass pyramid, I’m sipping and pausing, being in the moment. Wiping away the milk moustache on my top lip, I remember making them as a kid after school with my brothers as we told mum about our day.
8. I dry roast a handful of Macadamia nuts in a pan until they brown a little. Sprinkling with salt, I eat them hot. I snack on pieces of uncrystallised ginger and peanut butter celery sticks for morning tea.
9. I look at clouds changing outside in the sky, seeing animals and objects in the continual changing shapes. A kind of meditation, cloud gazing makes me calm. I write a Medium article I’m proud of about it, smiling contentedly as I press the Ready to publish? button.
10. A late lunch is a rainbow salad. Leftover chicken breast, capsicum, cucumber, spring onions, fresh chives, (that the peacocks haven’t completely devoured yet) cherry tomatoes, grated carrot, good gooey cheese and pickles. I slice and dice perfect cubes. I finish with a fresh lettuce my neighbour grew and gave to me. I break up the crisp green heart and crumble it over. This part tastes incredibly sweet, better than you'd believe if you’d never eaten something ripped from soil just hours ago.
11. I finish sewing a basic shift dress I’ve worked on for 2 weekends. The sheer fabric features watermelon pink leaves in a colour I’ve always wanted to wear. I try it on and readjust, then press the dress. I can wear it over swimmers as resort wear, or anywhere over an old fashioned petticoat. I’m swishing about the house wearing it awhile because I can. Happy with my own creativity, it makes me feel special.
12. After lunch I nap with my husband. It’s the third day of summer here, but hot already. At 29 degrees, with all windows and doors wide open it’s the perfect combination of breeze and warmth. Birds continually visiting my bird bath fill in any gaps in our conversation. We cuddle and drowse and fall asleep easily. I wake refreshed, he kisses my ear just as I turn away to sneeze. He was aiming for my lips, but any kiss is good and it makes us laugh. It’s an indulgence to be here in the now, in my home, at home with myself and my life partner.
Tomorrow I’ll be back at school, commuting 2 hours a day, leaving early, home late. But today, I had at least 12 moments, 12 seconds of happiness. I can’t wait to do it again. I liked it so much I could become addicted.
Last Monday, my lazy day off, I celebrated ordinary life. Being in the moment, focussing on one thing at a time in my own free time. Eating, drinking and doing all the things I love, dropping in all my hobbies. I expected it to be good, I just didn’t expect it to be so good.
Only 8 more teaching days until our 6 week summer school holidays start. Just over 2 weeks until Christmas where I planning more seconds of joy.
I’m gonna get more than Ekelof’s 180 seconds of elation in my life.
I know I can, I want to with everything I have. Bring it on.
