When I stopped thinking that everything should be planned from morning to evening - everything changed. 🌈 Today, as usual, I woke up early to have time to do... nothing special. ☀️ And suddenly a thought flashed through my head: "Why don't I go to the city? Just like that, without a goal." 🏙️

I put on the simplest skirt, sandals and went out. 👗 For the first time in a long time, I felt how the fresh morning air whispered its stories to me. 💨 I went outside, saw a bookstore - the kind that smells like old pages, and decided to go in. 📖 There was a cape and shelves, closed after six, but it was open that morning. 🚪 I stepped inside and realized: I'm in heaven. 😇

I was greeted by the aroma of paper and dusty time bearers. ⏳ I ran my hand over the binding - I felt the roughness, the warmth, the years that had passed. ✋ I pulled out one book - and sat in a chair by the window, leafing through the slightly fragrant pages. 🪑 It was a collection of stories about unknown worlds and fantastic landscapes. 🌌 I read until I ran out of tea: the same one that I took with me, and which took on a completely new meaning next to these walls. ☕

Suddenly I realized that the world is made up of such small pleasures: the smell of old pages, a soft chair and the morning light. 🌞 A smile dawned on my face. 😊 The book told the story of a heroine who sought solitude in the mountains. ⛰️ Reminded me: I do not seek external great joys, only small sparks. ✨ I wondered - how many sparks live around us?

I bought this book and went back out. 💸 And then I saw: the city is waking up. 🌇 Shops are opening, people are in a hurry - and I was walking slowly. 🚶‍♀️ In the house, I laid the book out on the kitchen table, brewed fresh green tea, sat down next to it - and decided to write. ✍️

Today I am writing not about the farm, but about myself. 🌾 About how important it is for every person to find time to breathe. 💆‍♀️ I am one of those people who need not only air and food, but also meaning. 💭 And today I felt it - in a book, in tea, in this morning. ☀️

I asked myself: when was the last time I did something for the soul? 🧘‍♀️ Previously, such actions seemed unnecessary - but now I realized that they are what nourish, and do not satisfy hunger. 🍽️ I rediscovered myself. 🔄 And this in less than an hour. ⏳

In the evening, when the light went down, I closed the book, thought: I again found a small dream - to reread stories, take notes, preserve the aroma of the pages. 🌜 I remembered smells that I hadn't smelled yet, and I wanted to go back to where books are not just books. 📚 They keep the world. 🌍

That's how my day ended, without any work - but filled with pictures of life. 🎨 A light joy settled inside me, a quiet understanding: to live does not mean to do, but to feel. 💖