Not Boring, Is It?

Beautiful sky. I love sitting and looking at it — at any time of day.
Morning — the stars fade away, and the horizon blushes, adding more and more red and gold until the edge of the world glows where the sun is about to appear.
Or noon — when the sky is pale and burnt by the hot, merciless sun, and you sit in the shade of a canopy, enjoying the warm breeze and a cool drink in your glass.
Sunset — it’s like sunrise, only the other way around. You wait not for the sun to come, but for it to leave, admiring lilac-pink clouds over the turquoise horizon. And then comes night — darkness and thousands upon thousands of stars. You recognize familiar shapes of mysterious constellations.
There’s even a special kind of sky during bad weather, when the blue is covered by heavy gray-blue clouds, pouring rain or snowing thick flakes.
Everything is beautiful.
And when you have no worries pulling at you — that’s true bliss. Oh, those worries! Homework, lessons — how I dislike them. I wish I could just sit or lie and look at something beautiful while everything else did itself:
the bed would make itself and toys would walk back to their places,
the breakfast dishes — swish! — washed and lined neatly in the rack,
and homework… well, better if there were none at all, and knowledge just appeared by magic.

— Dreaming again?
— Oh! Tavis, hi! Yes, just sitting here, not knowing how to make myself do all these boring things. Laziness has taken over me.
— I understand.
— How do I make myself do it? I know I have to… but I really don’t want to.
— Make yourself? You can’t.
— Well, there go my hopes! And I thought you angels surely know how to beat laziness.
— We always do what we love. We love your world and ours; we love God and stay close to those who need care. No one forces us. We simply see when we’re needed — and we come.
— Sounds like an interesting job.
— It’s not a job — it’s everyday life. We love it. It’s more important than any holiday. It’s always there.
— And I can’t make myself love the everyday.
— When you wake up in the morning, what’s the first thing you do?
— Umm… well… kind of…
— You go to the bathroom. The day begins with that. It’s nature. You don’t try to avoid it, you don’t think “I wish someone did it for me” or “maybe later.”
— Ha-ha! True. You can’t skip that.
— And afterwards you feel lighter, right?
— Yeah.
— Good. Same with schoolwork: no one can do it for you. But it has a pleasant side — you gain knowledge that may help you later. Think of it as a little ritual that ends with something delightful. Like having tea on the terrace in the evening. If you just pour the tea, that’s boring; but if it’s part of that lovely moment — sitting, watching the sunset, breathing in the aroma and the warmth, taking a sip and feeling it spread through you — mmm…
— Tavis! How do you even know how good it feels to drink tea on the terrace?
— Good question… I’m not sure. But it feels strangely familiar… Anyway, that’s not the point.
Look at everyday life as part of beauty — the biggest part of it. Then “boring” things will become steps toward something pleasant, maybe even something most important.
— That’s such a nice way to say it. You’re right, I do love when my room looks pretty. I’ll try to think about that while I tidy up.
— Yes! And your plush Bunnies will surely support you.
— Ha-ha! Thank you for being with me. I’m so glad you’re part of my ordinary life.
— That’s nice to hear.

They talked for a long time — the girl and her Guardian.
It’s a common thing, being near.
…and those strange memories of tea — they’re not accidental.