Today, the darling husband woke me up after 5 a.m.. I am unashamed to say I needed help getting started on this first day of what I know will be a long journey. I got up, stumbled around in the dim pre-dawn light, found my workout clothes, brushed my teeth, and got out the front door by 5:30. I did intervals... walking and running. I didn't break any speed records, but I survived and didn't blow out a knee; so that's something. I made it back by 6 a.m. and did my stretches while focusing on the horizon as the sun rose.
When I got back, I spent some time on the back porch with a journal I've had for some time but have been waiting to use. Embarking on a better life seemed a special enough occasion to begin using it. I wrote the following poem, the first I've written in a very long time:
The odds are against us
Living things
The impossibility
Of our creation
Of our birth
And yet in this sliver of possibility
We are
The probing tip of a root
The buzzing of bees
The singing of birds
Our very breath
Seeking survival
for its own sake?
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