Never mind that I have no earthly use anymore for 1542 square feet.  Forget the stairs to my bedroom; the dusty boxes on the basement shelves; the hardwood which has worn and the windows which have lost their glide.  Ignore the cupboards full of unused dishes and even that bird’s nest, high in a cabinet and probably mouse-eaten, which we found one day in the backyard and couldn’t bear to discard.

This is my peace: stepping outside in the sweet morning air, coffee in hand, ignoring the radio’s blare of bad news.  With the luxury of a half hour when no one knows that I have awakened, and nobody yet demands my attention, I stand on my porch reflecting on all that the universe holds.  The good, the bad, the devastating, the divine.  For a few moments, nothing rattles me.  Tension eases from my shoulders.  Everything seems bearable.

It’s the eighth day of the forty-first month of My Year Without Complaining.  My #JourneyToJoy and life both continue.