Sunday mornings

I’ve always enjoyed Sunday mornings … from going to Sunday School and then services at First Baptist Church of Chattanooga, Tennessee with my great-grandmother when my age was still in the single-digits, to my current more adult-oriented fare (no, not porn) of double cappuccino, CBS Sunday Morning, Face the Nation, and the New York Times.

Even when I’m getting ready for a bike ride or a ski day, my Sunday mornings are supposed to be slow and easy and relaxing … sometimes so slow and easy and relaxing that before I know it, it’s Sunday afternoon.

Sometimes, when the weather isn’t really conducive to being outside, the remainder of the day will be spent listening to music and reading, or watching movies, preferably on IFC or the Sundance Channel; documentaries such as Microcosmos or Genesis, quirky indie films like The History Boys or foreign dramas like Zwartboek (Black Book) or Das Leben der Anderen (The Lives of Others).

Today, I’m watching what I think is one of the greatest movies of all time … The Shawshank Redemption.

Whether spent alone or in the company of friends, my Sundays are a time of reflection and introspection; for thought and appreciation, rather than simply action and reaction.

I may not be a religious man, but I do set aside part of my weekend to appreciate not only all gifts that life has given me, but what it has given others as well, be it a talent for filmmaking, music, art or poetry; the ability to handcraft a fine bicycle frame or wristwatch; the ability to think and observe and yes, even to appreciate the ability to appreciate life itself.