Another Monday morning.

The sky is shot with pink and purple as I drop the kids off. Another weekend down, although this one at a more sedate pace.

Fuelled by exhaustion and the youngest child vomiting, none of us felt much up for anything.

But now as I drive to work, I realize I’m more relaxed than if I had used the weekend to catch up on the myriad items on my list.

Sometimes it’s good to pause, to do nothing, and just listen.

One of those things I listened to was my body.

Telling me it was tired and needed a break.

Responsibilities are always there fall back on when you don’t know what to do with yourself,

but sometimes doing nothing is equally valid.

Another thing I did was listen to a book, “The fate of Mercy Alban”

I was surprised when I reviewed it on Goodreads, adding another book to my yearly reading goal. It scored far lower than I would have guessed, with many ones and twos. I wasn’t sure what they’d found so objectionable about it.

Perhaps it came across more vividly to me in the words of the narrator, or perhaps they were looking for something other than what they got.

For me, the book had so much atmosphere that even if some of the complaints about trite plot line or confusing story within a story which seemed to irritate others captivated me.

Which was a good thing, as it helped me achieve my weekly long run goal. And for once, at the end of my run I didn’t feel my heart was about to jump out of my chest.

Either because I’d ran slower, or because I’d been more focused on the vivid campfire imagery ghost/love story I’d been transported to by the voice on my phone.

I didn’t declutter anything this weekend, either.

Although I considered it.

I’d also considered fully separating the clothes I meant to donate. But they’re tucked away neatly for now, awaiting a burst of inspiration or insanity;

whichever it is causing me to reevaluate my life.

While I didn’t clean or de-clutter, my house still feels lighter from the weeks and months since I decided I would begin.

It truly is cumulative; the decluttering didn’t progress, but neither did the mess.

It was much easier to toss an occasional toy upstairs for the kids to put away than to stare at the stacks of paper and knickknacks on the counter waiting for a forever home.

We have much less of of those now, halfway through March, then we did in January, and for that I feel a deep sense of accomplishment I hadn’t expected.

My first full week of project 333 is finished and I’m beginning my second.

Finding the clothes I want to wear now takes less than a minute even when I don’t lay them out the night before.

Truly the biggest consideration I have is whether I’ll be too warm or too cold for the weather conditions.

It’s also cause me to realize a few of the items I’ve been wearing every single day probably are nearly due to be replaced.

While I don’t look forward to shopping, I do look forward now to finding something only perfect to replace them, not something just good enough.

I tried on some jeans yesterday with this thought in mind and had no problem putting back ones that were okay which normally would have caused me to hem and haw while I tried to justify spending the money.

It was a new freedom I relished, and look forward to more of in the coming days.

For the rest of the week,

work and finishing edits on my first cowritten novel are priorities,

along with smaller items;

such as sewing badges on the Sparks sash,

or doing better when it comes to my diet.

I feel spring in the air and with it a new vitality,

a brisk wind blowing the cobwebs of the ghosts of the past from my mind.

I turn my face towards it,

wondering what new adventures today will bring.