Each new day begins a blank, and very clean, slate.
Do we take it?
Do we stand in the face of morning and decide, desperately or calmly, as circumstances would have it, that within that virgin moment, we will own it and not merely let it slide with the residual momentum of all the days that preceded?
Will we make today a different beginning, an alternative reality that can actually occur through our simple choosing?
A year from now, when 365 mornings have passed—365 individual moments of decision—will we reflect upon the metamorphosis from existence into a full experience of patient refusal to repeat the unthinkingly habitual?
Will we take that slant of light emanating from the east and declare each day for what we’ve often envisioned and hardly dared to hope for, in spite of everything (attitudinally and physically present in the necessary of the daily and professional but forgoing passive resignation, auto-pilot negativity and absent-minded time-fillers?)
We can take that day.
We can emerge from our sleepy beds, or places of nemesis of sleep, and just take it.
Copyright Barb Harwood
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