My alarm went off today even earlier than it sounds on any given weekday morning. The sun was still only thinking about showing up for the day. I was surprised to find T. Bone downstairs getting ready for his long day of skiing. Long cold day of skiing that is. Our temperatures are sub zero once again, but they should climb to a place that we'll likely consider balmy after the February we've endured. Any hopes I had about climbing back between the flannel sheets after seeing my boy off were thwarted once I hit brew. Today's cup was called Black Magic and it's not for the faint of heart or gut. The truth is that I knew what I was doing. I've grown to love the solitude of a still sleeping house. I can't really say when it happened, but I've made the shift from night owl to early bird. You know it's the early bird that gets the worm? Or the computer in my case. And the radio. I've cued up Pandora's Sunday Brunch. It's a station that also beautifully fits a slow Saturday morning. I'm here without anything pressing to say or do. I just want to capture the incredible feeling that fills me when I witness the onset of a new day. There's something both energizing and humbling about the potential that stretches out before me when I see the sun on the rise. Nothing seems beyond hope or reach or providence. Absolutely everything is a possibility as the sun climbs high in the sky. It invites each one of us to lift and seek, and to rise and shine. It calls us not only to follow the light, but to be the light, and I am just beyond grateful for the early morning reminder to be.here.now.
