Healing is waking up before the alarm to find a cat on the pillow staring down at you with love in his eyes
Waking up this morning I smile, twenty-four brand new hours before me. I vow to live each moment to the fullest and to look at all creatures with eyes of love
Exhale
Peeling off the covers
Stepping out of bed and into a routine

Healing is meditating outside at half-past seven in the still, cold morning air
Before the vibrations of the people on their way to work stir it all up again
Detritus churning
But that’s later
Now the spider webs hold only steeply angled sunlight and dew.

Healing is the gong of a struck cereal bowl
The cushion of your seat
The morning, waiting in emails to reach out and swoop you into blessed occupation
Coiled around a purpose
Taking time the ticking hours become something to complete
The days become accomplishments
I want to reach back and grab all the wasted time
But I hold onto forgiveness

Healing is the small rituals of the familiar
Moving forward on a well worn trail
The ground becoming solid from months of footsteps tamping it down
Thoughts hold their meaning better over here
Not slipping through my fingers, dissipating in air
The days of nauseous free-fall are over
Here I’ve built strong handholds

On the matt in child’s pose
Healing is stolen moments of ease
The satisfaction of not giving in
Healing is making the same choices again and again.