Monday, May 14, 2018

I dwell in Possibility.

Emily Dickinson

A blog I follow asks a question of retirees: What’s your favourite day of the week? There are a few “every day is the same” responses, but the majority, myself included, report that Monday is the day they appreciate most since they retired.

After years of hopping back on the hamster wheel at the start of each week, ready to give my best for the benefit of a corporation, Monday now dawns with promise and possibility,. It presents an opportunity to begin again and to continue on with creative pursuits that feed a part of me that remained undernourished for too long.

Monday, this week, is especially sweet. I wake with the window open, and the cool and fresh morning air washing over me. It’s going to be another warm day with open windows, open doors, and ceiling fans running because I won’t waste these early precursors to summer by shutting up the house and turning on the air conditioning.

Today, an appointment in town, some puttering and preparing, then starting tomorrow delicious days of solitude, silence, and warm summer-like weather. Writing. Reading. Gardening. And not much else.

But first, Monday.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.
  1. I love Mondays as well, and like you, I remember how they used to be before retirement! Your day sounds idyllic, and I know you will enjoy and savor every minute!

  2. Ask me again when, and if, I can retire! Mondays stink, Fridays rock!

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