Each morning used to begin with the alarm ringing shrilly from the lounge next door, eyes not even open yet, I would stumble just to go and get it to shut the hell up. Back in bed, just five more minutes I tell myself and then I will get up and go make us coffee. Instead of just lying there waking to the world at large, the voice in my head kicks in - why can’t he get up and make coffee for a change. Wouldn’t it be nice if I was spoilt for a change? Why must I ___ fill in the blank for the appropriate moan. It would carry on and no matter how hard I tried; I couldn’t get it to be quiet. It would carry on with: “Oh well, I suppose I had better go and get your lunch ready.” Ending with: “Come on Willow, let’s get your walk for the day done so that I can come back and get on with what I really want to do.”

I cannot tell for sure if it is the daily walks in nature watching Willow run around like a man released from prison for an hour fully in the moment, sniffing at every piece of brush or whatever else has piqued her smelling ability. The way she spots a seagull, hunts it down and then desperately chases after it but is just never fast enough to actually catch it. How she swims in the pools to cool herself down no matter the weather and the pure delight I see on her face when finding another dog on the beach, racing up to them, I almost hear her begging: “Please be my friend, please be my friend, please, please, please.” Utterly delighted to have another of her species to play with. The following day we walk the same way, but for her it is completely new with a fresh set of smells, different seagulls, and another type of dog for her to plead with to play. Yesterday it rained so this morning she behaved as if she was encountering a completely different world to the one she has seen hundreds of times.

Or was it working with the hypnotherapist to heal my past so I could leave it there. Or perhaps the Kinesiology balance I did for myself following the profound insight I had regarding the version of me I am ready to leave behind vs the version of me I am meant to be for right now? Who knows and is it necessary to know exactly what brought about the change or to just enjoy the fact that is exists? Perhaps it is the small, gradual daily steps that have brought me here?

So now I start my day with the alarm ringing shrilly from the lounge next door, I stumble through to silence it so that I may hold on to the lingering wisps of my dream, certain they hold some guidance for me. I lovingly embrace my husband and then make my way downstairs to make him some coffee and green tea for myself. I prepare his lunch for work and one of these days I am going to put a note in between the slices of bread telling him just how grateful I am for him. I am going to take Willow for her walk, and I will take phots of her adventures and off of nature that prompts me to write.

I will come home and continue my day in the same thread and ask that tomorrow provides me the same sense of gratitude and love. And if it does not because my hormones or whatever may be on the warpath. I shall ask God to grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.

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