Seven years or so ago, no make that eight, it was spring 2003 and John and I had just started dating. We spent a sunny Sunday morning into afternoon into evening at the home of mutual friends, out on their deck, celebrating another friend's PhD, drinking mimosas and then mojitos and then wine, eating an endless array of snacks, enjoying the sun in short sleeves, unwilling to admit that we were actually a little chilly, simply happy and totally carefree.
I remember letting go that day of anything about which I felt even a shred of responsibility. I remember making a decision to just enjoy that day, which is now associated with with a pure definition of happiness for me. It was the kind of day you can't create if you try, a day that just happens and for which you give grateful thanks.
Today could be that day again. The weather is the same as is my willingness to let go of responsibility. But I'm at work, not on a friend's deck, and I have kids to go home to. Maybe we'll go get ice cream or read an extra story; such is the form of joyful abandon of responsibility these days. Oh, how times change, but the simplicity of such happiness stays the same.