Pefect Day

Saturday morning. Hangover from last nights tomfoolery isn't as brutal as I suspected it would be. Just a few minutes past 9 am. My zafu, well warmed and used from my morning meditation sit. The kitties rubbing up against my legs and hurling scratchy meows in my direction in an effort to make my way downstairs to the kitchen to feed them their breakfast. Naked in the kitchen. Doesn't happen very often. Probably not such a great idea either, with the almost-wall sized bare window that faces onto a park. But I'm in a exhibitionist mood, feeling free and unhibited in my shell. Last weekend was filled with shopping, the weekend before camping with the group and I've decided that today I am spending time with myself. Though most mornings at this hour the sun is beating through the big windows which open the house, today is not one of those days. There is a soft, cool breeze which invites herself through the open windows. I can hear the rain drops hitting the patio set in the backyard. The birds singing their songs. The sky is grey. Couch: check. Lots of pillows: check. Cup o' chai: check. Random book picked up from Seekers last weekend: check. A perfect day for silence. Life is good to me. Probably not a good idea to make another night of dancing & beverages, but how can I pass up that soul soothing feel of smooth jazz and sugary drinks. Off to make myself foxy.