Thanks for Nothing

So remember before - when I talked about the oxygen mask thing? Apparently my husband was listening. Because this past weekend - he gave me nothing. I mean, not that he didn't give me anything - he gave me nothing. He planned a weekend away for the two of us, took care of child care, planned some super relaxing stuff and some time for nothing. It was awesome. I had a personal yoga class and an hour massage followed by a nap and dinner at a really nice restaurant.

And then? I curled up in a rocking chair on the back porch, wrapped up in a blanket, read a book and listened to the rain hitting the tin roof overhead. It was almost surreal. I can't remember the last time I simply had nothing to do. I listened to the tree frogs calling out to each other as the rain drummed overhead, consumed by a book that I had bought the day before. It wasn't even a spectacular book - following two friends from college through out their life. But it was mine for the moment - a story I could read without a purpose, without a study that followed it, a lesson plan to write, a moral to teach from. I wallowed in the luxuriousness of it all - I felt pampered, indulgent.

Earlier in the day I had laid in a restorative bridge pose and imagined a clear brilliant blue sky and placed my stresses from the past and my worries for the future on imagined clouds and watched as the wind blew them away. I breathed in with the air the things that make me smile and exhaled the things that form my frowns. I had laid in corpse pose and focused on only the sound of my breath and movement of my rib cage. I had placed my hands in namaste and extended a thought of thankfulness and love to myself for attending the class, to my husband and his sister for planning my day, for my friends for watching my children, to the world and the events that had aligned to make it all possible. I marveled at the serenity within me - I felt renewed and almost ethereal, as my instructor said - this was the real me.

Then the massage, where a lovely woman worked the kinks out of my neck and back and shoulders and massaged lotion into my skin in a room warm with lavendar scents and hospitality. We chatted amicably initially but as she worked we fell into a comfortable silence and I found myself almost dozing. When I left my skin was soft and warm, my muscles were relaxed and I felt as though I could simply melt into a small puddle as I didn't have the tension necessary to remain upright.

Later that night, after all of this- I laid in my husband's arms and thought of the day and again I felt all of these things - warm and relaxed, renewed and ethereal, pampered and indulgent. But most of all - I felt appreciated, important and loved.

So darling? Thanks for nothing.