As soon as I open my eyes each morning, I give thanks for the air that flows in and out of my lungs. Another day - I'm alive. God still has a purpose for this age-worn girl. So I pray for my family, friends, neighbors, co-workers and people all over the world; some I know and most I don't.
My husband lives next door to me but works the night shift so the morning belongs to me and my dog. Yes, I am grateful to have undisturbed mornings to myself.
Maya accompanies me here and there and everywhere. It is named after Maya Angelou, a lady of great courage and talent. My other dog passed away last year - a seizure disorder and serious medication took her dog's life too soon, so thanks for Maya. We are both aging and graying women with advancing arthritis. I can still see, hear, feel, touch, taste, walk and talk - so thank you. And my brain still works—mostly.
Thank you for the indoor installation, toilet paper and soap, because there are other people who can do without them. Toilet paper shortages have been a major event during the global lockdown.
Morning coffee with thanks for clean water and electricity to use the kettle. Oatmeal with fresh fruit in season, dried cranberries, raisins and nuts mixed in. With looming food shortages and supply chain issues, edibles will be scarce - so I'm savoring the taste. People all over the world are already experiencing the consequences of the pandemic and the games of the rich and powerful puppeteers of sovereign and communist countries. Water and food are requirements for life.
Morning meditation with yoga and focused breathing prepares me for the day. In January I read the 2020 book "Breath: The New Science of a Lost Art" by James Nestor. The way I perceived breathing was forever changed. I trained my brain to pay attention to my body and stay in the here and now and not wander in memories. Thoughts, reflections and concerns about suffering humanity are not welcome during meditation.
Gratitude for my front porch and morning sunlight while sipping coffee and watching my feathered friends at the bird feeders. A pair of squirrels and a lone chipmunk wander around and catch sunflower seeds.
The air conditioning kicks in, but instead of cursing the noise, I give thanks for the coolness it brings in the summer heat. The media, buzzing with energy problems, warns of future blackouts. People need cooling and heating.
A walk through my shady garden brings a smile and peace. Being semi-retired has brought me more hours in my created backyard paradise full of trees, plants and flowers. Grateful for butterflies, bugs and toads.
It rained yesterday and my little vegetable garden looks fresh. Thanks are given when a few cucumbers are plucked from the vine.
Seconds, minutes and morning hours passed. Time to go to work or time to write or time to do daily chores. Routine gives people stability, especially children.
But my mind wanders about events near and far.
Before the coronavirus, I took freedom and civil liberties for granted - because I live in America. "My land is of thee, sweet land of freedom, of thee I sing." A patriotic hymn written by Samuel Smith. The Great Reset (aka New World Order) threatens global democracy. Prayers are going up for the citizens of the USA. Prayers go up for Canadian citizens. Prayers go up for the citizens of all countries because the desire for freedom is embedded in every human heart.
Searching the internet for news about Dutch farmers in the Netherlands, people in Sri Lanka and the Russian-Ukrainian conflict makes my heart beat faster and my breathing shallow. The swirling winds of worry are waiting to be invited. Fear can easily feed on rumination.
However, my mind wanders to my favorite memorized Bible verses. God sits on the royal throne. God is the commander in chief of the spiritual soldiers. God's program for the USA and all countries on the planet will come to pass. God's plan is legitimate peace.
And I am grateful. An attitude of gratitude is my daily desire.
"God of our fathers To you, Author of freedom, we sing to you. Let our land be bright, with freedom's holy light, protect us with your power, great God, our king." The last text of the hymn.
Melissa Martin, Ph.D., is a columnist and columnist. He lives in the U.S.
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