Sensing Sunday

Sunday afternoons.

Two words synonymous with happiness. and freedom. Warmth. Sunshine and rainbows. Relaxation. Smiles. 

Sunday afternoons are also a time when your mind is free to wander, to daydream... to explore new thoughts and perspectives. 

       Relaxedly, I yawned and rolled over in my bed as I readied myself for a cozy afternoon nap, the crack in my warm red curtains slowly widening as my blanket tugged them apart through my shifting. More sunlight slid in through the gap, illuminating the swirling specks of dust dancing up and down on the subtle air currents caused by my every inhalation--exhalation--inhalation. 

I slipped into a lethargic torpor for a few minutes, sleepily watching the dancers twirl around while I soaked up the freedom of the moment, feeling the sunshine radiate through that crack into my room and into my contented soul. 

Ever noticed what happens when one sojourns for an extended period of time in that state between awake and asleep? Unlike traveling to states like New York, or Idaho, where one can intentionally go from place to place, the journey from states of consciousness is an indirect one. 

Today, as I drifted off to sleep, I began to notice a few things. What was once a vague whiff of pine-sol wafting in from my bathroom, the smell in its infancy, was suddenly an angry five year old shouting its presence in my nostrils, my once soft music now blaring loudly in my ears. 

I wrinkled my nose, clapped a pillow over my head, and wiped my eyes as the fragrance began to tickle my sensitive corneas, the accompanying music overwhelming me.

Ah, the burning sensation. Great. The fragrance must actually be coming from my palms, not from my floors. I twisted onto my back, arms pushing the pillow off my skull.. and then I was still. Eyes closed, I motionlessly waited for the stinging sensation behind my eyelids to stop. 

As I lay there in my bed, snugly tangled in my warm blankets, I started to think about my eyes. What if some abrasive chemical in the cleaner abruptly caused me to lose my vision? I reflected on the number of people in the world that lose their vision every day due to some reason or another: accident, brutality, clumsiness... genetics. What would it be like to be blind? 

I began flashing back to some of my favorite memories, their vivid colors and bright textures etched into my mind forever. Blue skies, glassy lakes lined with thick green trees, purple mountains tinged red with the setting sun... white-crested waters leaping down a steep canyon ravine. What if I could never see those things ever again? The thought was mind-numbing. 

Analyzing each sense individually, I started to realize how many things were going so beautifully in my life. My ears worked. I had arms. I could speak, and laugh, and even growl, if I so desired. My vision, while not being perfect, allowed me to see the splendor that was the nature in my everyday life. 

Sundays are a day for reflecting. For gratitude. Sunshine and rainbows would be nothing to me if I could not see or feel them. 

I thought about this new concept. 

Sunday afternoons. 

And then I fell asleep.