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 I’m a morning person. A serious morning person. I wake smiling and friendly and hug the husband, the dogs, my pillow (not necessarily in that order), leap out of bed (as fast as geriatric bones allow leaping) and get going.

Coffee, of course. Two cups, thank you. Morning quiet time; dog walks; writing. More writing. Editing yesterday’s writing. Yoga or Pilates. Another dog walk.

My afternoon person starts slowing down. The body, that is, the mind is still okay at this point. So I read something that needs concentration. Evening reading is by necessity mindless. If I try something mindful, I won’t remember a thing.

An indication of my night time level of intelligence is the fact that I’m presently reading “The Restaurant at the End of the Universe” by Douglas Adams. Zaphod Beeblebrox has just stepped unscathed out of the Total Perspective Vortex and tonight I’ll find out why. This literary gem is part of the Hitchhiker’s Trilogy. Book #2 to be exact.

But back to my afternoons.

I kayak to a quiet spot and on the way deliberately steer into the wake of a passing boat. It’s my personal hammock, being rocked from side to side on the water.

I find a little cove where I can communicate with the birds and the trees and the odd fish that leaps out of the water. It has entered my mind that one day one of them will leap into the kayak. And I sing, anything that comes to mind.

Life is a box of Belgian Godiva chocolates and I eat them one by one. Slowly the chocolates disappear and by 4.00 p.m. there are only a few left. The ones I don’t really like.

I’m no longer chirpy and more or less “speak when spoken to.” I move slower. I’m a little irritable; evening activities are a chore; I don’t want to chat and would prefer to read, do cross-stitch or knit (nothing intricate!)

Now if I catch a quick 20 minute nap early afternoon I can handle evenings but I rarely do. Of course I make exceptions, especially when visiting my grandchildren.

But back to my Dream Life of “Mornings Only.” It’s an illusion. Reality is pulling up my big girl panties even when I don’t want to.

There are the rare days I’d rather stay in bed with the dogs. But staying in bed won’t change anything.

I remind myself that everyone is dealing with something.

At some point, whether my box of chocolates is empty or not, life is waiting. Everyone else has moved on, your sorrow a blip in their lives or long forgotten.

And that’s okay. That’s life.

Cyber Hugs, many blessings and may your life have lots of mornings!


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