Moment of Bliss

I'm having a brief moment of bliss before the rest of my day takes hold. I'm home from the gym, sitting at my breakfast table having a cup of coffee. It's cold outside (32 F) but cozy inside. There's a fire crackling in the woodstove and the warm sun is just starting to glow through the house. It's quiet, warm and peaceful.

It's moments like this that I don't want to let go of my current life to move on to another. But then I'm quickly reminded that this is not the majority of my life. This is a very brief moment that will pass all too quickly and I will rush off to work, load up in trucks and drive out a long slippery road. I will throw my gear on in the cold winter air, grab a drip torch and proceed to hike around a steep mountain slope, slipping and falling on the slick pine needles, lighting piles of brush.

I don't want to go out. It's nice inside. I'm tired from the gym. A week of the gym actually, and all the burning we did yesterday. If this moment right here were my life, if I could afford this house and frequent plane tickets home, if I could stay indoors when the weather was too hot, too cold or too rainy, I think I would stay right here.

My favorite time in this house is right now. When it's warm inside, cold outside. The sun hitting the east windows casts a warm glow into the house despite the winter chill outside. My coffee cup is warm in my hands, My sweats are soft against my skin. It's quiet. It's so incredibly quiet.

But this moment will pass, and I will have to get ready for work. For now I will drink my coffee and listen to the silence.