Reflection on Writing, Sky and Sleep

I attended a blogging panel at the Bookstock Literary Festival a couple of weeks ago and began to think deeper about this blog. While I've always enjoyed writing, the hope that it may someday be an integral part of my future has grown with each year, each opportunity, and each supportive and inspirational person.

As I've thought about this platform that I've used for nearly two years, I realized that I don't typically stick to any schedule of writing, and I did not set out, nor am I setting out, to be a blogger. Rather, (I hope!) a writer. I'm often transitioning here to different areas of writing, from stories and experiences in my own life, to literature, places, ideas and people that I believe have made, and can make, an impact on our world. In relation to this blog, I hope more than anything else, that I allow anyone reading to think deeply.
                                                       

I've been working more than usual lately, and had today off and a faraway appointment scheduled. It was an early morning of conquering three states by car and returning home sometime in the afternoon. It had been a while since I had been home by 3 p.m. and the first order of business was to return to my bed with a book. The end of the drive had been punctuated with brief thunderstorms bringing ribbons of lightning between bursts of sunlight.

Once at home, I lay beneath two skylights as the thunderstorms came and went, the sky changing from shades of blue, to gray, to white. At some point, I fell asleep. Dreams occurred and I woke tangled in a purple afghan my Mom had made and the sound of her voice downstairs. In that moment too, I thought that naps might be some of the best uses of time. As a side note, I've noticed that naps tend to end in one of two ways: waking to sheer misery and fogginess while emerging from a deep sleep, or waking to happiness, renewal and a sudden love for the surrounding world. This nap, thankfully, should be included in the latter. By this point, the storms had ended and the sky appeared somewhat yellow, or orange, or as I thought in that moment, a faded golden.