Sundays are my nothing days. Seemingly, it looks as though there’s nothing much going on. I tend to either stay in bed all day with a book, a notepad or my laptop, or I do the same on the sofa. In the summer, I may venture to the garden, but still the nothingness remains. Inwardly, though, there is a lot going on. Sunday has become my day to think, to reflect, to ponder and make internal changes. It’s my philosophical day of the week.

I look forward to Sundays because it’s my day, all to myself (the older children are often home, but they don’t place many demands on me). This weekly cleanse and reflection is a very good thing for me.

I started today by thinking about the past and how it’s made me who I am now, before moving on to reading a book that someone gave me a couple of weeks ago. It’s very thought-provoking and makes me want to make changes in my life. It also makes me look at myself objectively, which in turn makes me want to do the right thing, even when the right thing is the hardest.

That was what came next. I wrote to Phil, whom I wronged. It was hard for me to write; it was painful admitting my mistakes, but it was the right thing to do in the long term, for both of us.