The lyric whistling of this morning’s first bird call greets me and then…
Twenty or thirty seconds later, my early bird companion calls again for just a few moments before flying off.
The lone whistle fades into the distance and then silence again, leaving only the stream as I type.
A gecko chuckles as I stop to think of how to proceed.
I text a morning greeting to my sweetheart and after her first quick response, I see those pulsing three dots… … … indicating she may be typing something else so I wait…
The pulsing dots stop and nothing appears.
A host of possible reasons for that automatically spring into my internal judgement machine and I chuckle a bit at my awareness of this.
The gecko agrees.
The rest of the jungle awakens now, seemingly a bit later than yesterday.
This now, my morning practice feels so very right, so very perfect.
And just in time too, as the call to work I received yesterday will be bringing me back.
Back to the old (and yet completely different so let’s just call it my previous) routine after one hundred and seven days of…
What can I call it?
My internal joy generator kicks in and I practically laugh out loud, relishing this realization of how easily I resist defining myself by these industrially aged phrases.
Back to work?.
Of course the fact that I do actually like (even love) my job makes for a lovely dose of dissonance into my mental mix.
My mind immediately fixes upon how all that has changed in this regard.
Regarding my sweetheart and me.
All that I can, do and will continue to imagine for our future.
Fills and fulfills me.
My dream last night mingled so much with my awakened mind, that I had nothing to firmly grasp and write quickly enough… so I didn’t try.
Thus the above.
A few fleeting thought images do remain.
A creative young man creates an amazingly complex computation device using only folded paper.
With this device, he is able to assist the authorities in apprehending a dangerous criminal.
At first, the idea is resisted by officialdom but the insistent advocacy by the young man’s single mother convinces them and the story has its happy ending.
I return to finish this, my blog post for the day.
Roxy (my canine housemate) came to my door and insisted I stop what I was doing and see to our breakfast.
I always try and support such clear and connective communication.
My thoughts then go to Julius.
I hope he too ate well this morning.