I received a bunch of coloring books and a set of gel pens earlier this month, a present from Kat. It was totally unexpected and absolutely delightful. Kat is a lawyer. I think lawyers know more than just a thing or two about stress. And that package I held in my hands looked up at me, as if promising that many happy days were up ahead.
The days will not be less busy or magically stress-free, but the coloring books will be a happy respite, a time to recharge from the sum of all that.
It took a few days before I found time to get down to it. It was a Sunday, I remember coming out of the water after a swim, and settling into a chair by the long wooden table in the lanai.
Still dripping, I chose a page randomly and colored, feeling young and carefree and happy, the way I probably did every day of my life in elementary when my biggest problem was Malu, the school bully (she who would demand P1or P2 I had daily that I would use to buy Chippy from the canteen).
While I was coloring, I was in grade school all over again, working with my hands, best friends with paper and bright colored pens. In that space, that very moment, all I had to think of was what shade of blue or green to use, and to ensure that I color with strokes in the same direction, within the lines.