In the quiet of the night

Reading in the quiet of the night – with a little book-lamp my mother-in-law got me.

There’s something special, something sacred to these beginning Autumn nights. When we turn inwards, cozy up under the blanket with a book and slow down. Take life in. Take the moment in deeply (because that where life always is – now).

This Saturday night, after a dinner cruise on the archipelago with my parents, uncle and aunt, mother-in-law and Ninos and Arthur, we came home late.
It was raining outside and there was a monotone noise when raindrops hit the outside window sill.
Arthur was sleeping in his crib.
Ninos was in the bathroom getting ready for bed and I was already there. Bringing along my favourite book, ”The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho.

And right there, right then, one of those little moments of pure, undiluted joy visited me. Like an extra layer of gold dust on an already gilded life. How lucky aren’t I, I thought lying there.
To have this moment and be able to see, experience the richness of it.
The richness of life, really.
When I’ve encountered so many people who live their life without it. Or hurry past it. As if there was somewhere else to get. 

Here I am, having life’s true richness in bucketloads. What a blessed life.