Today I Choose Joy

I woke up this morning feeling a tad out of sorts.  It's the day before one of my favorite of the year so I couldn't exactly explain it, and I certainly couldn't tolerate it.  Thanksgiving is the culmination of everything good about living: turkey and thanks, family and fall, tradition and togetherness, mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes and marshmallows, games and good cheer.  I ask you what's not to love?

T. Bone was easy to wake, quick to rise and anxious to start his short day.  The fact that it was 60 balmy degrees and that he had plans to spend the afternoon with his friend were more than likely responsible.  Miss Bit woke up and immediately got into character as one of the Von Trapp children. She was singing through her morning routine, and quite beautifully I might add.  Of course, she was.  She only had a half day of school and then a nice, long weekend to look forward too.

I knew I had to adjust my angle.  I was in need of an attitude realignment so that my head and my heart were on the same page in the same book.  There was no question that I would walk the trails of my favorite area nature preserve  Beautifully, the slight shift started as soon as I was in route.  Finding an almost empty parking lot gave me another burst.  I only had to share the trails with gobbles of turkey who would be spared from any Thanksgiving feasts.  I didn't cross paths with any other living thing.  I saw scat evidence of coyote and deer, but I didn't spot a single animal.

In the time elapsed since my last visit here, nature's vibrant fall palette has lost its luster.  The jewel tones have faded and tarnished.  Soon everything will be brown.  As I took pictures, the subjects seemed to turn sepia before my eyes.  There were still shocks of color along the way.  The showy wine red branches of the dogwood tree and the spectrum of brilliant blues in the sky above me and the lake before me broke up the burnished monotony.

I looked up to see the ultramarine skies disrupted not by ethereal clouds, but by the remnants of jet exhaust.  Contrails criss crossed throughout the sky.  The day before Thanksgiving is credited as being the busiest travel day of the year, and here was visual evidence of so many going from here to there.  I felt so thankful that I could just be here.  Be. here. now.

Peace and joy, in equal measure, returned to my heart and soul in the hour and a half I spent at the preserve.  I traveled along the entire stretch of trail until I was exhausted and energized.  First I thought about everything and then nothing.  Nothing but be. here. now.  My legs ached with agony and burned with ecstasy.

There's incredible power in the way we choose to view life and then also in the way we choose to treat what we see.  There are days I feel like I have no choice, but today I choose joy.  It is both harsh and exciting.  

Wild Geese

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

       love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees, 

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

Mary Oliver