waiting

Dappled sun comes through the window and rests on the desk where I sit this morning. I watch it as it gets closer to me and wonder when the warmth will finally rest on my cold fingers or touch my face. And I wait for it.

Days are this way lately. They begin with the thoughtlessness of morning's first moments, when the mind hasn't had time to engage, and the nudge of the dog's wet nose. I reluctantly move from under the blanket, leaving behind the warmth that lingers there, and reach for my glasses. And slowly, the thoughts begin - plans for the day, appointments, phone calls to make, but first, the dog to feed and walk. The moment itself becomes lost somewhere in the waiting for the sun to come up and the day to begin, for the phone to ring, and to hear the voice that assures me the waiting will soon be over.

I think it has always been this way. There has always been something for which to wait - a change of heart, a change of career, more money, more time, more flexibility, a fighting chance. And now it is a change of location, a change of scenery, a chance at love. And I wait.

With the waiting comes the struggle to live and thrive in this moment, as I was gently reminded of this morning by a kindred spirit with lyrics from a song that showed up at just the right moment:

"No day but today. Forget regret, or life is yours to miss"

Seems a shame to wait for the next big thing when the sun's dappled light warms my fingers through the window above my desk, and the day is mine.