Waking up

grabbing a few crackers

   I notice, they are yellow,

      doves are cooing and the coffee smells good

Journal entry, March 29

     I grab a handful of crackers and my cup of coffee and something strikes me as being different from just about every other morning that I do the same thing, and I realize, it IS different, really different. It is this morning, not any other morning. I see this as clear as day. It is not an assumption and nothing I could say now could convey what a resounding realization such a seemingly obvious thing can be. And if that wasn’t enough, I realize it is not only what I see, hear or smell that is different, I am different, at least I certainly feel different, and that is very different from most mornings when I pretty much feel the same.

     I slept well last night. I slept long. I dreamt and

things happened in my psyche. I am well rested. It was an unusual morning in that it was already light when I got out of bed. I think back to the moments of awakening. While I was not quite awake I was nobody in particular. I could have been anybody but then I became me as I put on some clothes. The tape started to run and I heard the stories, the needs, wants, fears, and scenarios of whom I am suppose to be. Yesterday’s voice drowned out the stranger’s joy of waking, of hearing birdsongs, of feeling rested, safe, and healthy.

     The moment lingers and it has not yet become all a story. I am carrying that moment like a found treasure, like a smooth black rock I once found on the ocean’s shore. Meanwhile, it has turned into a quite beautiful day. The colors are vibrant and the sunshine is so deliciously warm on my skin.