“Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit
to be encumbered with your old nonsense.”
– -Ralph Waldo Emerson
I am a morning person. I always have been and forever will be. I am not, however, one of those incredibly annoying, peppy, cheerful morning people whom you secretly want to slap into a coma or douse with your thermos of hot coffee–I am just one of those people who is wide awake and ready to roll the minute my eyes flutter open.
And when I couple that trait with my recent bouts of insomnia, I can often accomplish most of my day’s work before everyone else has wiped the sleep from their eyes. This morning, though, instead of washing a couple loads of laundry at 3 a.m. or cleaning the bathrooms, watering the plants, and unloading the dishwasher by 4, it was my brain that was buzzing with activity, and I felt like tapping on the keyboard. And now that it’s almost 5, I’m preparing to head out the door in search of a sunrise, but before I go I want to share my early-morning, insomnia-induced thoughts . . .
Just for today . . .
I will be gentle with the rest of the world and, perhaps even more importantly, I will be gentle with myself.
I will lose myself in the clouds.
I will pet the cat I don’t like.
I will write, I will write, I will write.
I will squint into a painting until I see the movement behind the lines and feel the rhythm of the brush strokes.
I will bite my tongue.
I will look into the upturned face of a beautiful girl-child, and I will not succumb to the wistfulness of what might have been.
I will look for something beautiful in my reflection, and I will not stop looking until I see it.
I will be kind.
I will remember to feed my fish.
I will order dessert without feeling guilty.
I will allow myself a second glass of wine.
I will banish worry and regret and guilt from my thoughts.
I will take the first baby steps toward kicking my caffeine addiction (after I finish my breakfast Diet Dr. Pepper).
I will be present in every moment.
I will play with my camera.
I will walk through the woods and attempt to channel my muses, Emerson and Thoreau. I will step into the stillness, and I will breathe in its calm.
I will absorb a poem and shiver with its knowledge.
I will watch the sun rise and set.
I will make time for a nap, even if it’s just a little one.
I will do at least one thing I’ve never done before.
I will do at least two things I’ve been putting off doing.
I will do or say something silly and outrageous (for me) just to see another’s reaction.
I will leap.
I will nourish my soul.
I will play. I will explore. I will pretend and I will imagine and I will dream (big).
I will leave “should” at home.
I will hug someone . . . maybe someone I know, maybe a stranger. I haven’t decided yet.
I will hold my breath and sink below the bubbles.
And just for today . . .
I will not let the carelessness of others hurt my heart.
I will not let a headache control me.
I will not be bossy.
I will not make a “to do” list of household chores.
I will not, I will not, I will not (and that’s all you need to know about that).
I will not be my own worst enemy.
I will not complain about the heat, and I will not sweat.
I will shush the scared little voice in my head, and I will not be afraid. Of anything.
Some of these pledges will be easy and fun and load-lightening, while others will be tremendously challenging and draining–which is why I am pledging “just for today” instead of guaranteeing forever. I may have to revise my list for tomorrow . . . we’ll see.
But how about you, reader? What pledges can you make to yourself just for today? Please, share . . . I want to cheer you on. Not in a rah-rah, annoyingly peppy kind of way, but, you know . . .
“Behave so the aroma of your actions may enhance the general sweetness
of the atmosphere.”
–Henry David Thoreau