The Perfect Day

I did another little exercise from CLWL today that I thought I'd share. It asked you to narrate your perfect day, no matter what that looked like. It was pretty fun.

As a note, I'd like to point out that not all the exercises in the book are this kind of "dream about everything you'd like" pie-in-the-sky activities. The vast majority of them are practical excavations into time use, creative skills, and the like. Only a couple of questions each chapter ask you to imagine fancy things--and those do have the purpose of helping you keep in sight what it is you're working toward.

First, though, a disclaimer: I feel like I could have several “perfect days,” depending on what I might be doing and any of them could well be fantastic. My day that includes voiceover work would differ from this, as would the day during which I was directing the Christian Arts colony. I’m going with the simplest one here.

"The alarm rings at 5am. I wake up, feeling refreshed and eager. I jump into the shower, get ready for the day, then step outside. I throw on my old brown jacket to keep the damp wind and fog off of my sweater. The wind moans through the trees in the pre-dawn grayness. I stroll down through the trees along the path, enjoying the morning, filling my nostrils with the scent of pine and earth, damp wood and the sky. My writing cabin emerges from the fog before me. I step into the covered entry, unlock the door, and grab a stack of wood on my way inside.

"Once within, I turn on the light, then light the fire in the woodstove downstairs (and a smaller one upstairs). I start coffee, and as that is brewing I sit at the table, reading my bible and journaling. As the coffee finishes, I take a cup and sit down on the couch, lifting my prayers to God with a thankful and eager heart as the gray outside lightens with the dawn.

"By 7am, I get up and whip up a couple of eggs, some toast, and some breakfast pork product. This I eat at the table while reading a new novel I’m surprised and impressed by, or possibly an old favorite in whose language I delight. By 7:30am I head upstairs to the writing desk. I freewrite for fifteen minutes, getting the pen moving and the creative muscle flexing. I’m so full of ideas that I have to stand up and pace a bit from time to time, just to keep from exploding, possibly to glance out the windows into the woods or the valley below. Then it’s back to the desk.

"On this day, I’m cooking with enough gas that I can go directly the computer. With that booted up and some soft music barely audible in the background, I start to type. Except for pauses to get more coffee and let my overheated brain cool down (possibly with a short trip to the woodpile to split a few more logs), I type without pause. The stuff that comes out is not all brilliant, but the story moves and I make good progress. A few bits are brilliant, actually.

"At 11am, I put the computer on standby, clean the dishes and turn out the lights, banking the fire to keep it in embers. I then head down the hill, hop into the pickup, and drive the fifteen minutes down the winding road into town. Driving past the hardware store, the local market, and various small shops. I pull into the local café and head for our usual table. There I’m greeted by Joanna, between her counseling or decorating sessions, and we spend a leisurely lunch hour chatting and eating.

"After lunch it’s back to the cabin for another few hours, this time working with the pen and paper, letting that slower pace fill my mind with more stuff, following rabbit trails and piling on the imagery. I might write a few e-mails or call publishing agents by about 3pm.

"At 4, I hear the running footsteps of the boys and Madeline, home from school. They give the secret knock, my clue to shut the computer down. I head downstairs and let the monkeys in; they greet me with hugs and stories of whatever they did that day in school. We sit at the table downstairs and play—maybe a game of Once Upon a Time. We tell lies and jokes. After an hour we hike back to the house to hang out with Joanna, attending to daily tasks, perhaps getting their homework out of the way (hey, it’s a perfect day, right?).

"I cook, and we eat dinner together at 6pm. If the kiddos have finished their homework, or don’t have much left, we play a board game or watch a movie or a good television program, the only time of the day the machine comes on. By 9pm, the kids head off to carry out their end-of-the-day tasks. I see each of them off to bed with whatever book they’re reading at the moment. Then I return downstairs to spend another hour or two with Joanna, taking care of any ephemera may still cling about our day.

"Joanna heads for bed at 11pm, and I spend half an hour reading, planning out the next day, or writing letters and such. With thanks for a day of accomplishment, peace, and blessing, I retire to bed."

It seems both self-importantly grandiose and yet tawdry at the same time. I don't know--this would be a good day, certainly, but a perfect day? Hard to say.

So, as before with these little exercises, I invite my lovely readers to chime in with their own visions of a perfect day. Rap with me.