One Of These Mornings

I’d like to wake up and just feel great. Like, “hooray, the day is here. Time to get up and get going.” But instead, for me every morning begins with a feeling of anxiety, a sense of dread. What am I going to fail to accomplish today? How much time will I waste? When the day is over and night settles in and I am back in this bed, what are the odds that I’m able to rest my head against my pillow and say, yes, this was a good day?

Just one of these mornings I’d like to wake and be the kind of person who is happy to greet the day. It would be nice to wake up and be someone other than myself.


One thought on “One Of These Mornings

  1. I believe your great-grandmother awoke each morning with a profound unease in her spirit as well. She displaced it with a rigid, self-disciplining sense of how to deal with this day ahead, with all days, until a final one would arrive. It is better, sweetheart, to feel the anxiety, to observe and accept it, to let it move out and away, like the waves on the sea Mom and I always speak about in our pretensions to Zen-like wisdom. The anxiety is just the first line every day. The rest is unwritten.

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