The morning air is cool as it wafts through the open window; a hint of humidity rides on the gentle breeze. The trees seen down the hill suddenly come alive with a reflected chorus of green as the sun finds a gap through the grey.

As natural light brightens the bedroom through the blinds, we enjoy a snooze afforded by an intimate cuddle; no care for alarms or to-do’s.

The misty blue sheets are in disarray, yet no less cozy with my back propped up by two stout pillows against the headboard and another one below my knees.

Hot on my lap sits a glossy ceramic bowl and a pair of wooden chopsticks emblazoned with our wedding date. Steam rises from two freshly cooked eggs over-easy along with a few shoots of reheated broccoli and meatballs grilled the night before. A healthy way to kerb the hunger pangs so that I can stay here a while longer, away from chores and distractions that await.

A paperback book lays page-down on the mattress near me, marking the point in the story I’m eager to return to after my first bite. While I normally wouldn’t eat in bed, I am not ready to leave this restful position.

I have learned from experience that once I get up—even if only to bring my bounty and book out to the porch—incoming messages will chime, laundry will beckon, and I will undoubtably spot something small yet demanding of my attention.

But here on the bed, with my knees pulled close to hold up my plate and paperback pages, covered by sheets to shield from eggy spills and the Autumn chills, I pause to take in the moment.

If all the 9-5 trudgery isn’t for this, then what is?

A bed, a book, a window, and a meal to accompany the rings on our fingers. The things we could buy with the time we have traded for cash.

And while the view through these panes sees houses, not waves, and our decor could look more modern to match, if this isn’t “making it”, then what is?

With the work we put in, again and again, it’s easy to lose sight of the point.

If it’s not for this, then what?