I just ran a marathon through an obstacle course, and I’m still in my pajamas.

Noon will arrive in five minutes, and as I have mentioned in the title, I am still in my pajamas.

I did not plan it this way.

In the first place, I didn’t wake up until eight thirty, which is late for me. I have a list of things I wanted to accomplish today. Still want to. But I was trying to find my way to my blog page to accomplish my first desired task of the day

Instead, I got caught up in a crazed mob of news items, emails, emails about Facebook postings, videos that I tried to pass by but actually caught my interest, Instagrams I actually wanted to see from my out-of-state daughter. I had an email with a grammar test I had to stop and take and then had to get involved with commenting in the ensuing virtual conversation.

In short, I am exhausted before even getting started.

It didn’t help that a thunderstorm was in progress when I awoke, making it difficult for me to extract myself from my pillows and blankets. It has tapered off now, and I have opened the back door to allow some of the fresh air in. Hopefully, this will help me relax and focus.

So now I had to stop in order to take a picture through my back door. I want to share my view of the beckoning day. The stained glass monk hanging on the glass portion of my door is an unplanned but serendipitous expression of the peace I would like to experience at this moment in place of the frustration and exhaustion.

Just taking the photo and getting it where I wanted it was a time-consuming challenge for me. I have to face the fact that some of this is not the fault of the technology I try to manage in my life. There is also the aging factor as well as a lifelong battle with procrastination.

Be that as it may, it is now past one o’clock. Whatever it was that I originally planned to write about has flown from my thoughts. I am going to get dressed now. And take a few deep breaths. And re-start my day.

pink as my rosiest dreams

Opening up the blinds to find even a small and fleeting streak of pink in the sky stops me in my tracks every single time. This morning I stepped out into the chilly autumn morning in my robe and slippers to take a picture–try to hold onto it. I have opened the back door, which is glass on the top pane and screen on the bottom, to let some more of that morning in. Already, the  palette has given way mostly to lavender and periwinkle since I snapped the picture, but the quivering morning stillness is still there.

It speaks to me. Tells me I am not alone. Tells me this is a new beginning, the gift of a morning. The evening sky stops me, too, with a feeling of comfort. Somehow the glow of pastels settling back on top of whatever kind of day I have had offers a –

promise that all will be well

See, the home of God is among mortals. Revelation 21:3b (cited on today’s page of Forward Day by Day)

 

Rise and Shine

But look: the valleys shine with promises,

And every burning morning is a prophesy of

Christ

Coming to raise and vindicate

Even our sorry flesh.

—-Thomas Merton

I woke up at 7:30 feeling as if I had risen from the dead, and looked outside to find an astonishing golden morning out there.  I followed an impulse to pick up Thomas Merton, A Book of Hours to read the entry for Friday, Dawn. The above quotation was the opening verse.

So I stopped reading and jumped into the next room for my laptop. I had to plow through a clamoring mob of media images and headlines demanding my attention before I arrived at the blank page to start writing. I have to do something about the entryway to my writing space.

By the time I messed around for 30 minutes trying to figure out why I couldn’t get the quotation to single space (without success), my outlook and mood changed somewhat.

It is already after 9:00.

I seem to be hyper-aware of time passing.  The main theme of my writings, back when I was anticipating my approaching retirement, was that I would have my own time. What I have come to learn is that I am just as much, if not more, of a demanding task-master than any previous boss.

The ways in which I have allowed my time to be usurped and frittered over the past seven years are legion, and there is no point in dwelling on the past. This is a new morning.

As was yesterday morning.

In my defense, I had not slept well the night before. I was still awake past 3:30 when I finally got up and had a cup of blueberry tea, but was up at 7:00 anyway. I had told myself I could take a nap later, but I didn’t do it.

I made myself a typically over-loaded to-do list, only wasted about 30 minutes on the Lumosity games, and headed into my day.

The things on my list I did accomplish: Go to library to print submissions for critique group; grocery store; update checkbook & pay bill; work on review; work on critiques; yoga session (gave out after one pose).

Things not accomplished: Blogging; work on story; crochet project; download and start reading book for VP group; publisher search; nap.

I burned out and wanted to go to bed by 5:30, which was too late for a nap and too early for bedtime. So I watched about half the PBS News Hour while I ate dinner, then killed time trying to concentrate on various distractions until the more suitable time of 8:00 arrived and I fell into bed.

But look: the valleys shine with promise.

No long lists this morning. Another cup of coffee, get dressed, and go take a walk.