I love having a peaceful home.
I crave it.
And I thrive on it.
But I don't always have it.
I have learned that I am sensitive to my physical surroundings. Light, noise, smells, and visual stimuli all have an affect on me--for good or bad.
The other night I experienced a profound sense of peace. I had just had an evening playing with Evan. He was all tucked in and sleeping. Russell was doing homework at the kitchen table. And I was baking.
Our home smelled warm. The comforting silence was broken occasionally by the still-comforting whirr of the Kitchen Aid or the creaking open of the oven.
And as I made yummies for my family, I thought of my sleeping baby upstairs and watched my husband study diligently. I felt we were all content with ourselves and each other at that moment. And I felt at peace.
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