Good things are on the horizon. There’s a pink dawn behind the frost on my second story window.
I feel hopeful that the new day will be fair.
I believe we can always try to do better, that we don’t arrive, we practice.
With hard work and perseverance, we CAN clean up a mess and get things in better order. (I’ve lived here with Steve for 5 years; for the first time, we have all our clothes stored out of sight.)
I believe that ‘obstacles’ and ‘obligations’ are simply the wrong terms for ‘opportunities’. (My daughter quit her job and went back to college this week!)
I am an optimist, an idealist, and proud of it! The glass is waiting; FILL IT UP!
Half full, half empty. Worn and washed up on the beach.
“Land Ho!” “Pass me the glass! No, not that one, the telescope!”
Through a glass, darkly. Nose to the pane. The ceiling. Don’t throw stones.
Cool and transparent, insulating, sparkly…glass is all around. I look through it all day long, even when I’m outside and have for years. I remember leaving the optometrist’s showroom with my first pair of glasses on. I looked up to the foothills and saw leaves on the trees up there. Suddenly, there was depth and contrast in the distance. It was a miracle. The first time I looked through a microscope was a miracle, too. I imagine indigenous people finding obsidian and cutting their fingers on it, rejoicing. What stuff!
I feel my life getting dull. I’ve been working hard at the book-selling business, rather repetitively. I need to wake up to the scintillating delight of life. This is a perfect visual reminder!