I have a hundred stories in my head yet nothing has velcroed onto the pages.
I am finding this stay at home rule is causing mental overload and consequently a challenge to fully focus on the creative zone in my brain. My head is full of ideas for my future, what I need to take care of, how I need to be prepared for the fall. I have not been anxious up to this point, the mood of spring has been infectious, newness, growth, beauty, possibilities. Listening to the robin's morning song, witnessing the crows and eagles dancing in the skies. Focusing on the morning sun climbing higher in the sky, smiling as the bright colored petunias settle into their mosaic pots. The resurgence of over- wintered geraniums, a miracle that this annual has survived the frost and cold?
Perhaps that is a good metaphor for what is possible, even my chrysanthemum is sprouting new growth, it is ahead of itself but clearly excited to be part of the flower family on the deck. Should I waver in my hope and optimism all I must do is walk with mother nature to hear her message. Beauty and possibilities abound, it seems an easy quest.
Yet, as I sit in my rocking share and dissect my busy head and emotions, I cannot sway with the rhythms of spring my nervous system oscillates and wobbles.
How did this apprehension and uneasiness arise with such force, hijacking my thoughts and feelings?
Facebook and all other media outlets THEY need to be put into potting soil and buried until next spring. Does the geranium live in fear of a year in the cold soil? Do trees regret at losing their leaves? Does the blueberry bush wonder if the fruit will never appear again, are the birds thinking of signing up for online dating In case they will never find a mate? Are the worms making plans to migrate? Should the salmon change their spawning habits?
Of course not, cycles are the quintessential rhythm am affirmation of the earths clock, everything changes and evolves. As I sit in this knowing, I exhale, allow myself to rock gently in comfort. I too, am in a cycle. I can give myself permission to dream to let things flow. How hard it is to push through the hard-cold earth oftentimes fraught with enemies and challenges. With faith and knowledge, I surrender to be in this moment, I talk to my mother, Mother Nature and I sense her wisdom wrap around my kaleidoscope of thoughts and worries to exhale and believe that this cycle will subside and I can now concentrate on rewriting a new story in my head.
What is good about today ?
Let me list some of the parts of my early mornings that bring me joy. Such simple actions make me smile and give me warm fuzzies all over. The wet nose of my dog nudging me to wake up, a groan from me is signal from him to lick my face coupled with a healthy shove on my body “ “GET up lazy bones time to pee and then eat he murmurs in my ear”. I leave the warmth of my bed to escort him to the front door so he can do his business. The rush of cool air greets me, the smile at the purple petunias singing on the front porch. The resident robins’ morning chorus sings to my heart. The frenzy at the birdfeeder just like a drive thru, they are gathering to dine on sunflowers seeds, millet and other delicacies. The sparrows dance around squabbling with each other mother feeding her chicks, the ground feeder Towhee collecting all the remains his dappled tawny chest catching the morning sunlight his tail significant and regal.
A yellow morning light parts the clouds perhaps the promise of a sunny day. There is a stillness from the fir trees sentinels to my home, the ceremonial Beefeater's Yeoman guards, protecting my crown jewels, that of my home and garden. The huge umbrella maple trees waving in slow motion nodding branches beckoning a landing spot to the crows and gymnastic squirrels. All the garden smiles there is beauty emerging from the soil a village of industry. My gratefulness extends to the worms, the silt the sand the clay, fertilizer the magic and the soul of the garden building joy and life from all the natural elements.
More gratefulness as I turn on my coffee machine and watch an aromatic brown liquid gently fall into my favorite mug, a pleasure for my senses, my palette, my cognitive process awakening. Sipping on my morning nectar I rock gently back and forth, and my porch and I give thanks to my world. I know if I open my device, I will find another world wrought with anger, hate, fear, disappointment, spilling form every part of the world. But for me today I am listening to the sounds of the birds, bees and my dog snoring satisfied after dining on his breakfast kibble. My day is a good day today. What is good today is what I choose to focus on, for today there is nothing more than that.