When I approach the day with a grateful orientation, what do I notice?

I remember standing in my crib,
trying to see outside the curtained window of my bedroom,
longing for a glimpse of the mimosa trees outside
with their ballerina flowers,
floating in pink feathered skirts . . .
hoping to splash in the inflatable wading pool
under trees dappled in sunlight and shade,
with the smell of fresh-mown grass in my nose.
That was my heaven . . .
that was my nirvana.
That summer
I not only hoped for it;
I expected it,
and when my mother dressed me for sunday school instead,
or a trip to the grocery store,
my day was shattered
and I wailed the wail of the deprived,
of the prisoner,
of the misunderstood.

I realize now
that I awoke with high hopes and expectations,
often
only to be dashed against the hard rocks of reality..
I hope I have grown up enough to know
that gratitude
does not have anything to do with expectations.
that assumptions about the coming day
are false projections.
I had to learn how to truly wake up gratefully
with an open mind and an open heart.
Things change . . .
the best laid plans,
and all that.

There was a time as well,
when I woke up in the morning
with an inner groan
that I was going to live to endure another day
of grief,
conflict,
depression . . .
whatever was on the menu at that time in my life.

Thankfully,
the expectations are gone
except for the two days a week I must get up early
to make breakfast,
then pack a lunch,
and send my ever loving husband off to work.

Now,
I can watch the sunrise from my bed,
hear the raindrops on the windows,
see the snow sticking to the glass,
or simply look out upon a cloudy day . . .
it doesn’t matter anymore.
I make of my day what I make of it,
wrap it up in a little jewel case at night,
gratefully put it with the others in neat little rows . . .
another day
where I have done the very best that I could do
and I am content with that. .

It’s been a good day. ♥