It’s a bright new day.

It would be easy to look at the clock and see only four hours of sleep—a result of a late-night pasta craving, a lovely chat with Hubby, and just a general mucking around.

It would be easy to listen to the storm still raging outside and feel a sense of gloom.

But what if this isn’t a bad start? What if it’s a gentle invitation?

Perhaps the universe knew I needed a reason to slow down. I was recently reading Stanley Tucci’s Taste and fell in love with the idea of the “slow food movement” in Italy. Maybe today was always meant to be a “slow movement day.”

The lack of sleep isn’t a deficit; it’s a reminder to be tender with myself. The wind and rain aren’t a disruption; they are the perfect excuse to be cozy and turn inward.

The things will still need wrangling, and the edits will still need editing. They always do. But they will be met with a quiet grace today, not a frantic rush. They will get done.

But first, coffee. A slow, mindful cup to welcome the morning.

Then, I will gently tackle my one article for the day. I’ll look at my schedule and softly plan the next two weeks, penciling in the new line edits from a client and remembering to leave space for life to happen. There will be yoga. There will be flexibility.

Today wasn’t derailed by a restless night. It was gifted a new, more peaceful rhythm. And I’m so grateful for the reminder.