I am waiting for the sun, a bit impatiently. I don’t have to wait; it’s a mild morning after a rainy night, and my headlamp is right here. I’m choosing to wait, and I’m not in any hurry. The sense of restless energy and impatience aren’t so much a choice as they are a temporary state of being. Feelings. Sensations. Emotions. I observe them, but don’t make decisions based on them. I choose the quiet waiting. I am eager for the day, and in pain, but neither of these things are decision-making details. They merely are what they are, part of the experience of this moment in all its unrepeatable richness. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I wait.

A smattering of raindrops falls briefly, tapping the roof and windshield of the car excitedly. The shower passes quickly. It’ll be another fifteen minutes or so until daybreak. I’ll start down the trail then.

I sip my coffee content with the waiting, thinking my thoughts, experiencing this moment. It is enough. Each sip of my coffee carries along with it the scent the barista wore today. Where her perfumed fingers had pressed the lid down onto the cup securely, the fragrance lingers. Flowers mostly, and a hint of something classic I can’t name, and each sip makes me wonder again what the name of the perfume is. It is familiar and I can almost remember it.

…At intervals, brief rain showers pass by as I wait…

I don’t bother looking at my news feed. This isn’t the day for that and it has no power over me. No anxiety. No chaos or damage. No anger, frustration, or drama. Just a quiet watchful moment, waiting. It’s a pleasant beginning to a new day and it is enough. Later I’ll run some errands, work on finishing the move from one storage unit to another, and get some routine housekeeping tasks out of the way, but none of that needs my attention now.

Eventually, a new day.

Day breaks, gray and rainy. An enormous flock of geese, uncountably large, passes overhead, unconcerned with the rain. Me, though, I continue to wait – grateful I’m not out on the trail already, caught betwixt rain showers out in open. Now I wait for a break in the rain, watching daybreak become dawn. I smile, content with things as they are. This too is enough.

I look over my writing. “First person, singular,” I think to myself, unbothered by that. I check for spelling mistakes, with care. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It is a new day, a new moment, and a new opportunity to make my choices and live my life. I am here, now, and it is enough. I smile and sip my coffee. This too will pass; moments are fleeting.

Soon it will be time to begin again.