My current evening bliss come to me in the form of open windows, cool breezes, tea punch that reminds me of my Grandmother and Aunt, and classical musical. Oddly enough. Spring has decided to peek her timid head up for a quick visit and fill my head with swelling piano octaves.
I cannot really describe how therapeutic these evenings are to me. This is the time of the year when I want to shun any and all television and sit in my house as it slowly grows dim with the gradual fading of twilight. This is the time of year when the grass and wheat are green, when I remember my love affair with my bicycle, and my constant need for gallons of iced tea in my fridge.
I've mentioned briefly before that I have been struggling with anxiety, which is something that is hard to describe and often hard to believe, even for myself. Why can't I just get over it? I've been to the doctor, which has helped a lot but I still have moments where I feel panicked about life and often these moments creep up on me during the weekends. Part of it, I think, has to do with the fact that weekends are not structured; I don't really know what to expect. Because of this, I overwhelm myself with stuff that I suddenly feel pressure that I must accomplish. I forget to relax and suddenly things that were once fun for me are no longer the case. It's not a very nice feeling. I get so caught up in that I forget to enjoy life.
This was the case for me on Saturday morning and yesterday evening. These are the hard moments.
Thankfully, these moments are starting to get less frequent. It is starting to be easier to focus on the good. To remember a Sunday that felt like perfection itself. To sit in the stillness of the evening. To drink milkshakes with my family. To simply be. It's okay if my room is still a mess (let's be honest, it's always going to be) or if the bathroom floor needs to be swept.
Even though this past weekend was filled with hard moments, it was filled with the deliciously good as well - supper invitations, folk music on grassy knolls, panini's from an orange food truck, iced coffee in mason jars, hearing my nephew, who is still so round and full of goodness, giggle for no reason, picnics in the Arboretum, crusty bread dipped in fresh hummus, bare feet, endless blue skies, the warm sun on my skin, a green-eyed boy who tells me I'm beautiful, evening strolls, the quietness of the house - all of these things I hold closely. All of these things add up to more than anything on my panicked, mental to-do lists ever could.
These are the good moments. These are what make up my spring bliss.