Perspective. Yo.

Galveston Bay

07 May Perspective. Yo.

I used to hate Sundays.

Way back when.

Hayyyy…ted. Hated.

Sunday was boring. It was slow. and quiet. Everything was closed. Friends couldn’t hang out because they were expected to spend time with their family. for church. dinner. Etc.

My parents and I lived on a farm in a small town in North Central Washington. I had weekend chores which included feeding the rabbits, mowing the huge fenced area between the house and the barn (with an old push mower,) and occasionally I had to help feed the cows, milk the goats, or buck bales of hay.

I was not a fan

We were not farmers.

I had not grown up on a farm. My parents bought 29 acres on the Okanogan River when I was 16. I was a city girl, and not at all accustomed to country living and the pace of a small town. A town of less than 1,000 was a big shock to the girl who had grown up in the greater Seattle area and the Coachella Valley.

But I loved that river. And I loved the sound of the train as it ran through the valley and echoed from one side to the other. And I loved foggy days shrouding everything in a moody, misty cloak.

I loved the apple orchards surrounding us on all sides. And the smell of cider and burning leaves in the fall. And the sequined sparkle of new snow as it lay blanketed across the rolling hills and fields in winter.

but I just couldn’t get the hang of Sundays.

One weekend, I decided it was time to change my thinking, and I made myself a note, which I posted where I could see it often…

Reminder. Sunday is actually the FIRST day of the week.

It worked. I started facing Sunday with a smile instead of dread. Appreciating the quiet, time to reflect, pause… and take naps! Sunday is the perfect napping day. Especially when it’s raining!

For me, it’s all about perspective. If I find myself feeling particularly angry, negative, or sad, I look for the silver lining, refocus my energy on gentle calm and remind myself…

Sunday is the first day of the week.

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