Monday, again. Snow, again.

I awake to raw snow and sore limbs, still nagging from Saturday morning’s yoga class. Last night’s dreams of conversations with friends made my mind feel as if I hadn’t slept at all, but my rested body argued otherwise. Rolling over at 5:00, I realized I hadn’t woken once during the night- how thrilling to rise before your coffee pot, ready to start the day. I look out the window as I wait for it to brew, feeling a piece of me stolen with the freshly covered earth. Snow, like practiced thieves and seasoned gray wolves, does its best work, unwarranted, under darkness.

For almost ten days I have been creating a list of what brings me happiness. Each day I add three, carefully deconstructing my day to frame my thoughts. At thirty, I am learning the importance of setting intentions and creating habits worth following through. Even on the hardest days, there is worth. What happiness can you find in the ordinary mud of the day?

Outside my windows, the darkness is thick this morning, like yesterday’s coffee pot, blacked grains turned to sludge. I say a prayer for the sunshine and for Sean, too, knowing that he will miss it the most today. It is Monday, again, with snow, again, but I set my intentions for happiness, ready for what the hours provide.