The Golden Hour

So after the last post, I think I needed to take a moment and not be so heavy in this blog. No one wants to constantly read about the downers of life. Let alone, the news of the last few weeks... So much heartbreak and negativity out there over the Trayvon Martin outcome, the recent Rolling Stone cover, the MLB and NBA scandals over racial slurs... I want to take a step back from all that and focus on one lovely thing, The Golden Hour.

It is upon us here in Los Angeles as I write. It's that pre- sunset time between 7 and 8 pm. The sky goes peachy and the sun glows like a huge orange fire ball. The mountains on my side of town morph into a gray-blue or lavender hue, and time moves a little slower. I am usually on my hour down from baby duty. I often sit on my back patio and catch up on emails. I prepped dinner tonight. I have to fold some clothes too. I am currently sitting on a pillow on the floor looking out my front window as the sun descends.

My body feels tender, and my joints are a little sore. It was my first time back to yoga in a few weeks, and the studio wasn't particularly ventilated. So, we basically had a bikram class. I was sweating like a pig. I probably pushed myself a bit more than I would due to the hiatus, and the heat probably allowed my body to go further than it should have. Ouch tomorrow!

So, the Golden Hour, it's my gratitude time. I'm usually silent, as is the house besides the muffled ocean bluffs from Miss R's white noise machine in her room. Sometimes the AC is still on cooling off her room that cooks in the late afternoon sun until it's finally dusk.

Gratitude. Today, I'm grateful that I could write and record music with my old collaborator, Joe Lewis, in London. I was grateful that I had a keyboard to compose some incidentals on for the piece. I was grateful that my allergies didn't kill my voice or tax my nose. I was grateful to get an iced coffee from Cafe Figaro in Los Feliz before yoga, and maybe the most butter-laden croissant of recent history. I'm grateful that Riley had a good day and was generally happy. I was grateful that I had the same.

These are simple pleasures. I used to disregard them in lieu of how many things I got checked off my list. Maybe this appreciation comes with age. Maybe it travels with quietude. Time to think or appreciate things like watching the sun set.

At this moment, I'm happy to be alive, to have my family, to live in this house, to recognize and enjoy silence of volume and of headspace. I'm lucky to have amazing friends and two great kitties. I hold hope for the future in my life and for humanity in general. I wish you all good evenings and breathe deeply.