Perfectly Less Than Perfect

 

I have always envied those who wake up eager to meet the new day.  There have been days when I awake with a feeling of dread at having to rise to the challenges of another day.  I’m not proud of that but it is the truth.

This morning was different.  It is not a perfect morning.  I have many miles to go before I sleep.  I have a lot of responsibilities and commitments.  I have promises to keep.  I have chores to do and things that I would rather not do but this is my new day, a gift.

The clock next to me stares at me with large red numbers.  It’s not even 7 a.m. and it’s a Saturday.  My back tells me that going back to sleep isn’t possible.  My feet touch the floor and I head for the bathroom.  My feet are steady and sure.  This is new.  Normally, I shuffle like a zombie.  My arms half extended to brace myself again something should I happen to fall.  This morning, I know I will not fall.

As I shower, I remember the heavy hearts of those around me.  Yesterday was hard for them.  Each was challenged in their own way.  I remember my own challenges.  I sort through my thoughts and feelings and see something new, something that I had not acknowledged before.  My thoughts are not light but my spirit is.  I see the difference between the two and am grateful.  This is a good day and it feels good.

Breakfast and coffee tastes wonderful.  Quickly, I delete old e-mails and move on to the next task.  I decide to write and grab my camera to take this picture of my perfectly-less-than-perfect morning that still feels great.  I aim at the sun wondering if it will show up in the photo.  It’s there surrounded by a hazy, light gray sky.  The light and moisture work together and form a faint halo around the sun.  Light is sacred.  It deserves a halo.

This is a perfectly-less-than-perfect day.  It is all gift.

I am the person behind the words printed here. I write because my heart will not allow me the option of NOT writing. It has taken me half a life time to discover this basic truth, but now that I have, writing is as natural as breathing. This is where my breath takes the form of words.

Connect

I am reading

The Miracle Morning: The Not-So-Obvious Secret Guaranteed to Transform Your Life (Before 8AM)
0 / 170 Pages