Morning has risen

The curtain rises and a new day dawns.  I figure at my age I have had over 22, 000 of these new days and the sad part is how many of them I dreaded for one reason or another.

First of all let me say I was never a morning person.  Probably because I didn't sleep at night worrying about what I had to do the next day -- even get up.  I am anxiety in a person's body.

A doctor or dental appointment was reason for terror as a child, as was a test at school, or the dogs I had to walk by to get to my piano lesson.  Later just having to play my solos on the oboe in class, let alone a performance filled me with anxiety for weeks.  A zit on my face, not having the clothes or shoes my friends had made mornings less than wonderful ways to start my life while growing up.

Later on I found myself in a dysfunctional relationship which only added to the problem.

I still worry about waking up on time when I have morning engagements and I obsess over my weight, allowing it to define more than it should, but I have shed most of that anxiety.  Wriggling out of it and enjoying the moments as they come most of the time.

Every so often I go through a dark period, but now I know the sun will shine again if I just hang in there, so I try to look at mornings as opportunities instead of meditations in terror.

No matter what happens I know I don't have another 22,000 mornings left so I need to make the most of them.