As I awakened to another day. My mornings offer me so much. What will I bring forth today and what remnants of yesterday am I trying to carry into today? Reflection is wonderful in it’s place. I tend to hold on. Often an overload of a good thing, a seemingly bad thing, and the whole damn thing.

Buzz, the bird dog and I have a routine. I get up before he does. He either does a dive under the fluffy comforter or he comes to me with his paw and motions for me to pull back and let him enter.

A dule of doves are burrowed in the desert landscape. Big and small. Almost camouflaged by the sand and sun. They will have to share this moment with us. We wait as long as we possibly can. I wonder what coup they have planned and has their morning become an act of grace as well?

The fragrance of sage has wafted across the air like a bouquet of promise. I am in a full flight of peace.

I find myself nestled in living each day. The days seem to be unfolding slowly and commanding the attention that time deserves. I am in love with this awareness and knowing that I have the ability to rise with the sun and rest with the moon has opened in me a energy. Nothing captures me any longer in the past. The key to an unlocked mind has dawned and incredibly I see right in front of me a scenery of infinite promise.

Sitting at my keyboard pounding out words like Beethoven, (if only I was deaf to the comments in my head). Thoughts chirping away like a magpie on a fencepost, or in this case, my shoulder. A bad omen of thought. I need to slingshot it and move on. Nothing remotely uplifting has resulted in this neurotic symphony of thoughts. My truth is this- the only deadline I’m facing is my own ego telling me, “You must get this in gear, it’s what you’ve wanted now enlighten, brighten and beam.”

When my internal compass is allegedly “off”, I have this inability to see past the feeling. The feelings become a flask flood. That’s correct. I don’t flash anything. Intentionally.

With that written, the truth is this. The compass is never off, it just leads me down the path of realization. “I’m exactly where I am supposed to be” can be music to my ears or a burden as big as a pebble in my shoe.

That annoyance will send me to an imaginary bed tucked under the covers. Which I must tell you, only exists in my head. My DNA is to never quit. Push on little Injun that could!

Fortunately for me the internal compass always resets itself and the cure is this: I am muddling through, sometimes with a limp. Because well, it’s bound to an old paragraph and releasing that into the Universe has become the lyric to a song that, when in tune, is the marching band within the parade passing by.

Drumroll please.