Last night while taking the compost out, something made me stop and look up at the stars. It’s been months since I’ve done that, which is odd because it always gives me great pleasure. There is something about the sheer immensity of the night sky that puts everything else into perspective. From outside I could hear the kids laughing, arguing and generally enjoying themselves, I could hear the distinctly New Zealand sound of a morepork…a native owl and music drifting over from the neighbours and it felt as though I was suspended outside my life.
There are times when running away seems like the only escape from the relentless grind— stress about bills, housework, kids, work… But, much as I love travelling, I simply can’t do it these days. Sometimes the inability to travel causes me great sadness, as it was such as integral part of my life and my identity. But last night it occurred to me that doing something as simple as gazing into the stars gives me the same sense of wonder I used to get travelling. It didn’t cost me a thing — and all I needed was a clear sky.
Cool and calma 