Why is it
that the first thing in the morning
I feel so hopeful
... as if the morning's promises are to be believed, and that I can confidently anticipate -and even expect- great things of the day.
I shall live in harmony, without attachments.
I shall remain calm, and of a pleasant disposition.
I shall be able to get my house clean and shiny.
There will be time for neighborhood walks.
A journey into the gardens
and a cup of reviving tea whenever it's needed.
These are things that morning promises to me.
I've got to find a way.
Surely I wouldn't still believe morning, if it weren't possible?
Surely I wouldn't come back day after day, in hopes that I can believe her?
Somewhere along the day I feel let down, and sigh and think "not today."
I lose hope.
There is something here for me to learn - and I shall be thinking on this today.
I think it has something to do with hope, and losing sight of joy....