There’s something weirdly serene and peaceful about curling up on a windowsill and staring out at falling snow.
Sure, I might’ve been at Dick’s house recovering from the flu (not the best of circumstances, most likely). But it was still peaceful.
I know that the idea of “nooks and crannies” evokes shudders of unpleasant discomfort in some, especially those with a sense of claustrophobia or being shut in.
But, for me, it feels reassuring to curl up in a ball and do some reading, or just press your forehead to the glass and stare out the window of a speeding train or car. It’s calming, to make the trek to the quieter floors at the tops of study halls and find a room enclosed in glass with a wide swathe of carpet. I sit on the ground, my books spread like a halo around me on the floor. Finding calm in the chaos.
Because, even as the world passes you by, you still have that. Something at your back, ready to hold you up if you fall. Knees pressed against your heart. Maybe something warm, like a mug of tea or a bowl of soup gripped in freezing fingers.
It’s all about finding nooks and crannies, the places you feel safe. Those are most important.