Geez, it’s always a bit tough to listen to yourself, isn’t it? If you prefer the automated reader, no worries at all—I’m all ears! Seriously, feel free to DM me. 😊
We have a tiny outdoor pond on our patio that came with the house, and we do our best to keep the fish alive that came with it. Turns out, that’s harder than it sounds—none of the current goldfish are the originals. We’ve learned the hard way that to keep them happy, they need plants. The other day, I spotted a surprise: a lotus flower stretching up from the lily pads, wide open in the midday sun. Beautiful! By evening, it had folded itself back up for the night.
The fish, I’ve noticed, keep their own schedule, too. In the mornings, they seem to be waiting for me, rising to the surface as I greet them with a “good morning,” even before I toss in their food. They dart around with energy, gobbling it up in seconds. But if I forget and wander out at some random time later in the day, they move slowly, almost sulking. I can’t help but imagine them thinking, Oh, so now you remember us? Nature has its own rhythm, and I love watching it play out.
I’ve always been someone who loves a routine—sometimes maybe a little too much. Lately, with the kids going on week 3 of sleepaway camp, my husband teases me about how early I eat dinner. I didn’t think 6 p.m. was all that early, but if you want to hit some golf balls after work and stroll in at seven, yes, you’re definitely missing my window.
For me, eating around the same time every day has always felt… easy. My body starts to get hungry at predictable times, which means I don’t have to think about it or spend energy deciding when to eat. Most nights, I’m done eating between seven and eight, and that consistency simply works for me.
Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to these small reminders in nature. Just like the flower doesn’t question when to bloom and the fish know when they like to eat breakfast, our bodies, too, carry its own intelligence.
