Everyday is Like Sunday

Today is Sunday. I'm listening to the birds sing. I've been awake since 5 am and have had too much espresso. 

My mother in law sits across from me. It's quiet until Frodo starts barking incessantly. So I throw dry food on the floor for him. I call it our 52 pick up game. He's already eaten but he's old. Another round of food won't hurt.

I'm old too. But not too old. I'm not too old to focus on health and wellness. I'm not too old to go to concerts. Or write. Or play and perform. Most of all, I'm not too old to dream. 

Dreaming has always been my freedom in life. I've always imagined new things and adventures. They have, more often than not, come true. Some call this manifestation. I call it dreaming. Dreaming is free, as Blondie once said. It's everything. In some ways, dreaming is life.

And my next dream is to write a third book and then teach writing. Full-time. Not just in bits and pieces. Now, I know I still have things to do to make this happen. Change takes time. And I'm fine where I am. 

But I have to dream it first. So this Sunday. I'm gonna daydream my butt off. I'll light a candle and pray. Breathe. And dream. Then, I will dream some more.