I keep thinking that, at some point, this whole life thing becomes easier. But I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s like what we say about yoga–the practice doesn’t get easier, you just get better at dealing with difficulty.
So this morning, in the dark of the pre-dawn, I’ll listen to the bats chirp outside my window. I’ll find gratitude in the later dawn and earlier sunsets. I’ll remember that time passes because that is the nature of time and, in many ways, that is a blessing–and a teacher. I’ll remember I’ve been alive for this many summers, and (hopefully) will be around at least this many more. I’ll remember that somehow the bills always get paid these days, despite occasional discomfort and a bit of creative scrambling. I’ll remember I have my books and my garden, the tides and the sunrise.
And I’ll remember that tomorrow’s sunrise might carry away with it, at long last, the reality of a good night’s sleep.