A Touch Romantic.

My work week over, I feasted on lukewarm ground beef patties and no sugar pumpkin pie. Late October weather in Wisconsin blessed me with warmer temperatures and no breezes. My two animals tuckered themselves, one with chasing birds and squirrels from behind the patio doors, the other, chasing the same among the fallen leaves.

Every now and again I would hear Poesey’s jump against the window. Wally would fly past the doors with colored leaves exploding in his wake. Both pets were momentarily revived by the activity of busy squirrels.

After my own foreged feast, I folded my body into an astounding number of favorite woolen blankets. I turned the television channel to the beginning basketball season. It’s the wonderful time when skills are undoubted but play execution is surprisingly imperfect. First string and bench players are mixed.

Normally I would curl up, with my attention focused upon such things. I did, but all that is memory is the soothing noises of basketball shoes pivoting upon shiny wood floors.

I awoke early in the dark Saturday morning. Even with anticipation of an entire weekend away, I found myself curiously saddened. I raised my head a bit with pillows and blankets, but clicked through channels. The basketball game has turned to game reruns. I found the idea of rerun games totally disagreeable but wondered at the lack of logic.

As with many daily situations, I find myself and my inner reactions to be unreasonable. But at the wee morning hours, I desire no self-analysis. I continue to click through channels.

Typically I search for sit-coms. My attention refocused on a romantic comedy on a schmaltzy station with actors I do not care for. I clicked past, then returned. Conversations would make me drowsy then I would awaken to catch more of the story.

How long has it been since I curled into blankets to watch tv?

Part of the storyline involved a character who had not cried since she was a teenager. And yes, there were dual romantic storylines with comedic points and just enough tragedy to add interest.

I found myself snuggled deeper into blankets. While the tragedy did not stir emotions, the predictably sappy sweet ending did.

Tears. I found myself crying as the couples celebrated New Years Eve, together, joyous and in love. My tears were not of my own sorrow but they reminded me of feelings, of romantic feelings and close happiness. I felt a recognition of intimacy which exists in the world.

Sigh.

Those types of tears? I had not felt them in a very long time. “Silly,” I had thought of the whole sappy episode. I laughed at myself a bit. Vignettes of my realities in the coming week played through my head. My brain needed to work upon those situations. I needed to spend my time planning!

Instead of planning, I watched television. Instead of active mind work, I cried a bit.

But, what followed was a deep snuggle into blankets with a deep sleep surrounded by pets who did the same.

Peeling away the blankets, I was awoken, stunned that I had remained on the couch. My animals were still nearby. My body held no aches from sleeping in a blanket cocoon. And my head felt free. My heart felt light.

My whole being felt ready to tackle all the lovely, real world issues.

And all due to a short dip into a pool of blankets, television and sappy, sappy emotions.

I highly recommend allowing oneself a bit of snuggle, in blanket, television and tears; allowing oneself a break from stock markets and business results. And, I further recommend the mindset – the realization – of romance in ones soul.

A soul’s tear is a most precious gift…

Lots of love, s

Published by Stephanie Monka Springborn

Hi. Welcome to my blog, the brick dandelion. I am... just me. Thank you for joining me. Love and Blessings, ~Stephanie

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