The air is crisp and cool this morning, so I run in and grab a quilt out of the basket in the family room, returning to my favorite chair facing the magnificent magnolia tree, deeply rooted to the west of the yard.
I love welcoming the morning from this quiet space, when everyone is sound asleep. It is my private womb, a time for just being. I offer up a silent prayer that begins in thanks but ends in supplication.
I engage in my own version of meditation, sipping warm coffee, laughing at the nasty birds diving mercilessly at my unsuspecting cat, bathing in the morning sun. My dog finds a place at my feet, offering his peaceful presence, and I am surprised at how easily this loyal creature calms me. There have been brief moments of time when I have achieved mastery over the rambling of my mind…dinner options, personal vendettas, a blouse I left at the cleaners, and excessive shower scum.
That is when an unexpected gift of peace settles around me like a warm blanket. These moments for me are always elusive, as I slip back to reality, feeling like my cat besieged by the antics of nasty birds.
Originally published on Cheryl Oreglia
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