As Monday Rolls Around...Again

For each new morning with its light

For rest and shelter of the night,

For health and food, for love and friends,

For everything Thy goodness sends.

--Ralph Waldo Emerson--

I love the above prayer of Thanksgiving. I have found that whenever I am feeling sorry for myself, repeating the above has always been a source of support.   There are so many things in life to be thankful for, and often enough we focus so much on the negative we forget about all the wonderful things in our lives.  I woke up this morning, and before I even had a sip of coffee, I began to make myself feel miserable because I 'didn't want to go to work.' A wave of the 'poor me's' came over me. 

I often find myself so focused on my dream of retirement that I forget that many out there can't find a job.  People are losing their homes, their families, everything they have. Homeless shelters are full, and housing programs have lost their funding.  Where does it all end?  I often think that take away my paycheck and 'there go I'.  It is a frightening feeling to know that you are only one paycheck away from losing everything you have. 

I am blessed with my new home and the love I receive from friends and family.  There was a time in my life I had neither. There were times that I laid across the bed and forced myself to sleep the day away because I had nothing to eat.  Now I try never to forget where I once was and where I am now.  I may feel sorry for myself at times but life truly is good.  

Too many of us take life for granted. I love when, in my groups at work we go around for check-in and client's say, "I am grateful that I woke up this morning." Being alive and in good health is a gift that I am thankful for. When I wake up every morning and still have the breath of life inside of me, I am thankful for my life.

Today I light this candle in gratitude for life.

Between Sleep and Waking

Softly in a dream I heard,

Ere the day was breaking,

Softly call a cuckoo bird

Between sleep and waking.

Calling through the rippling rain

And red orchard blossom;

Calling up old love again,

Buried in my bosom;

Calling till he brought you too

From some magic region;

And the whole spring followed you,

Birds on birds in legion.

Youth was in your beaming glance,

Love a rainbow round you;

Blushing trees began to dance,

Wreaths of roses crowned you.

And I called your name, and woke

To the cuckoo's calling;

And you waned in waning smoke,

As the rain was falling.

Had the cuckoo called 'Adieu,'

Ere the day was breaking?

All the old wounds bled anew

Between sleep and waking.

Mathilde Blind