I look forward to the weekends because they mean hours of uninterrupted reading time.
Lounging in bed until ten o’clock, reading. Starting a new novel Friday night and savoring it all weekend. Staying up until midnight or later, riveted by a story.
But this morning was different. My body woke up at 6:24, and the rising sun made a bright rectangle on the behind my bed. This early in June in Phoenix the heat outside is bearable, so I went for a long walk.
When I got home I crawled back in bed, but I didn’t read. Instead I just… thought.
It made me realize I don’t often give myself time and stillness to simply think my thoughts.
Instead, I squeeze stimulation into every moment. By reading, listening to podcasts or music, texting, scrolling through Instagram, seeing if so-and-so returned my email yet, checking my texts again.
I hesitated to give myself thinking time this morning. It felt like I was squandering my reading time. Those precious weekend hours to read my favorite fiction!
But I’m glad I did. Because I discovered that my thoughts can be as adventurous and exciting as reading a novel.
This post is part of my 100 Blog Posts in 100 Days series. View the rest here.
