Sunday Afternoons
Today feels like Sunday afternoon. Quiet and empty of purpose but full of destiny. It’s funny how on the days that you intend to do nothing you begin to make sense of everything. The other days that you were desperate to accomplish and simply couldn’t, they begin to fade and you get to the root of your horrid unproductiveness. Sunday afternoons have certainly been tell-tale of where I stand. What point I’ve arrived in life or where I need to go. It’s funny how Sunday really depicts your circle of life. When Sunday afternoons are spent in the same location as they were in the beginning, that’s usually where transformation happens. When the clock struck afternoon on the Sundays of my childhood I was in a wooden pew. And now years later having spent Sunday afternoons in an array of appropriate and completely dysfunctional situations I have returned to the pew. The prodigal daughter if you will. When completing the Sunday circle, life can really begin. You can finally press pla...