So far, Rachel’s life has gone much as planned.
Itinerant for a while, she drifted, an anchorless boat tugged by a restless tide. While the first storm nearly capsized her ill-equipped vessel, the salty spray only served to invigorate her appetite for exploration.
Was it really only three years ago yesterday? Rachel thinks, scrutinizing the simple interior of a well-lit living room. Could so many clear mornings have dawned since she bought the whitewashed home in a quiet Austrian suburb?
Rachel smiles at her desk standing obediently in the corner, papers neatly filed in order of importance and three pens arranged in a mug. Running her business from home, there is finally adequate time to think. Before breakfast she sits facing the mountains and writes. Sometimes a poem describing how dew makes a spider’s creation beautiful, other times just a line to remind herself what she is grateful for. In the evening she paints or reads, depending on how long the daylight lasts.
Rachel is not alone. Weekdays, clients come for consultations; friends drop by. Rachel is by no means dull. She values the leisure to enjoy her surroundings rather than obsessing over material gain. Rachel’s life is simple. For now.
Her next project is a memoir, and I think for that, she may need to go live a little.