Sleeping in, even if it’s just an hour or two, is a rare privilege. What follows are slow mornings in peaceful solitude, give-or-take blasting your favorite music while you brush your teeth and dancing around your empty apartment like a happy fool, without toothpaste dripping from your chin.
I made a list of simple meals I’m planning to make next school year. I can’t wait to choose to avoid the anxious, chaotic space that is the college cafeteria. Today at lunch, I hid at a small window table and stared out the window, letting my thoughts wander far, far away from the half-decent chicken salad I’d scraped together from the limited summer menu.
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A particular bench on campus is my favorite place to sit when the weather is nice and I need some time to journal and spend time with God. Today I reflected on the importance of prayer, my need for both solitude and community, and what it means to guard my heart (a cliché saying, I know, but one that has become increasingly important to me through the years).
We had class outside on the chapel steps despite the whirring lawnmowers and the grating sound of trowels as men planted flowers nearby. The sun soaked straight through my dark-wash jeans, black t-shirt, and black hair, but I relished the feeling of warmth on my skin. I’ve been so starved for heat after last winter that I didn’t even mind the sweat gathering on my forehead and the potential for sunburn. Nonetheless, after class, Kailin and I went back to the apartment to change into shorts before walking to the grocery store. This was a dangerous adventure, marked with great risk. We walked in hungry and desperate to drink something cold, preferably lemonade. Somehow we slipped out with only $12.68 worth of snacks and no lemonade or ice cream — a true miracle.
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I finished editing photos for a shoot from a couple weeks ago, sent them off, and proceeded to read a (very confusing) 40-page play. The evening took an unexpected turn when I reacted more strongly than usual to a conversation topic, and ended with my sobbing into Maddie’s arms and trying to process some old hurts from years ago.
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Almost everyone else is asleep. I’m hunched over my laptop, tapping away in a half-lit living room, listening to the Head and the Heart (again, don’t be surprised) and relishing the consistent sound of the air conditioner. I wish this contented state could count as sleeping. Maybe it does.
Be still, my soul.
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Eliana Chow 
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