i've been wanting to be comfortable lately.
i've wanted warm, thick socks and soft, warm sweaters.
i've wanted sweatpants and sweatshirts and i've wanted soft, lacy pajamas.
i've wanted the underlying texture of my day to be soft. i've wanted to be in soft things. i've wanted things to be softly lit. i've wanted to feel the softness of the pup's hair and the softness of the bf's hands. i've wanted to be enveloped in softness.
maybe it is because i'm feeling a bit soft myself--feeling a bit more sensitive than usual emotionally and feeling a few pounds heavier physically. maybe it is because i've had more spiky moments lately, moments of grumpiness and anger. maybe it is because i haven't been that soft on the outside. maybe i'm just older and a lot of soft things are warm and comfortable and i want to be warm and comfortable now. maybe it is because the news every day feels rough and hard and sharp that i need to soften the blow with softness.
can a day be soft/have texture?
can a moment be soft?
when i came home and saw the light hitting the newspaper and the bf's coffee cup from this morning, i was hit with a wave of softness, a yearning to climb into the feeling of that light hitting that newspaper and coffee cup (even though the articles facing up are what i'd categorize as not soft in the least). i got my phone and began taking a picture when the pup entered the frame. yes, yes, i thought. you are a part of this soft moment.
there are a lot of definitions for soft that swing toward the unpleasant (likely to fall in value, um, no thanks), but i like this one:
soft. having a pleasing quality involving a subtle effect or contrast rather than sharp definition.
i am yearning for more soft days and moments. as i think about next year, and intentions for next year, i keep coming back to how i want my days to feel.
and soft just may be it.