The indulgence of nothingness

Having had plans every single day these last two weeks, ending the fourteen days with a weekend away from home, with two lovely ladies and their babies, I had an urge this morning, to do just nothing.

All impressions from the bygone weeks; following the growth of my soon four months old baby boy, seeing new people and all the 'should haves', had to sink in a bit, for me to be able to really grasp and appreciate the beauty of the details in life.

The nothing of this morning was like eating an egg. Very defined in its form, nutritious - a protecting shell with something good and simple inside. I've sat on the sofa, holding my son, reflecting about a friend I wish I had seen, thinking about new life and beautiful people. I've gone for a slow run - just because I felt like it. - Feeling the frost biting my thighs and cheeks, looking at my smiling son in the pram and breathing cold fall air, tasting like water from a mountain stream.

In a way I feel a little bit too full with all these impressions, but at the same time, very rich. Today has offered me the indulgence of nothingness. - And I'm fully satisfied.