The dove is now gone, replaced by the chirping and chatter of other birds. I hear the traffic up on Newberry Road. My day begins. Shall I make this day or shall it make me? What shall I make it or am I at its whim? The day knows the directions, a format is set. Shall I surrender to the format, be a quiet passenger? It means I must accept where we end up. It is a willingness to give control…and responsibility….away. Ah, but what an illusion, a fantasy. Not only is this my day – my train – but it is my rail and my engine. I am conductor. I drive this train. I also control all the switching stations, the yard, the number of box cars. While an occasional break is welcome, I am comfortable as conductor. It is not that I wish to stop the train or exit the train. I think I would like to take a different trip, add another route, alter what passes outside and the speed at which I run. But my rail system is a closed loop. Eventually, I return to the station, that place I call home.
Kindness to one self is my hope for this day.