Regarding the Weekend (In Which I Did Nothing)

• On Sunday, I had four hours completely uninterrupted. If you're a parent of a toddler, you realize what an incredible joy that was for me. Because I put on a movie. I tucked myself under my mother's quilt and a small Anthropologie candle flickered at my bedside. Thoreau's Walden lay open next to me. I read about birds, the small cabin and celestial songs until I drifted into a quiet slumber.

For four hours no one called me, texted me, e-mailed me, or anything-else-me. 

• Last night, I sat next to my mom on the couch as she put the finishing touches on another quilt. I sketched and spread watercolor over paper, then picked up a crochet hook and counted quietly row by row. The slow rhythm kept me occupied. No worries. No unanswered questions. Just quiet 1, 2, 3, 4 and the soft yarn falling between my fingers.

I didn't check Facebook, Twitter, my e-mail, my phone, or anything else connected to anywhere else outside of my small little living space.

• Madeleine crawled into my bed after her nap. We read books, the same ones, again and again and again. She eventually turned to face me, nose to nose, under that quilt. Her little sigh filled our quiet moment. 

No chores. No dishes. No laundry. No scolding. Just us.

The weekend was filled with others things too. Other good things. Necessary things.

But the best things were the ones that (if I didn't tell you about) no one would know. There's something to be said for doing things without thinking..."I should post/tweet/blog about this." In my attempt to find wonder again, I'm trying to slow down. Eliminate. Not move so fast, leaving a dust cloud behind me.

In fact, I wasn't going to say anything at all about the weekend in which I did nothing. Maybe I should keep it a secret. Maybe next time I will. 

But this time, you should know, there's a whole world of treasures around you. Turn off your phone. Close your computer. 

Go find them.