I am uplifted

A couple of days of "moody" is enough for anyone. I am done. I am happy. I am me.

My friend, shiny gal, has made this entry in her journal today. I like it!

The Morning is Mine

The Morning is Mine
The first rays of sun have crept into the kitchen. It is warm, airy, and lovely.

The clock tells me it is 10 after 9, and while logic dictates that 10 does indeed follow 9, I know the clock for the liar it is. Time does not exist today. I have decreed it so. Time can only exist in my mind, and only if I acknowledge it as a fact because someone told me I should.

I love morning the most. It sings of possibility in birdsong. It is the metamorphosis of dark into light. The melting of my frosty soul after a lonely night. The morning is mine. It is the pleasure I share with no one. Conceited though it may be, I believe no one values morning the way I do. Since I was a teen I have gotten up early, to walk before sunrise. I wander the river valley, where it is just myself and nature. I feel at home there.

I feel at home in my apartment, too. It's just me and my cats, meowing echoing my thoughts.

This morning I am a complete woman, at home in my body, at home in the world.

(Thank you, Shiny. I needed that.)

She is so wonderfully radiant and positive, isn't she? I adore my friends!

I have been reminded that each day is unique, full of unexplored possibilities and beautiful secrets. Each day is new. And so, I cast aside the troubles and cares of the week past. They are gone. I don't need them, and I will not miss them. Today, I start anew.

How wonderfully freeing!