Thoughts . . .

I’m awake, though my eyes are closed. The morning sun fills my bedroom. My eyelids flicker, and I resist welcoming the day. I lie in bed, my back stiff and sore from too much sleep, and carefully stretch as one false move can throw my back completely out of whack. Getting old is definitely a bitch, but I shouldn’t complain. I am healthy and active and despite the pain, I’ll be playing soccer in a couple of hours. I have to pee, but I linger in the comfort of my pillows and blankets. I want to give in to staying in bed all day, to feeling sad, to nursing heartache and just plain feeling sorry for myself. I will not.

I immediately switch my focus to thoughts of gratitude. Remembering my pledge to meditate at least five minutes every day, I begin conscious breaths, and review my mental list …